


The Rise of the Jedi

by LadyEnterprise1701



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, Finn and Poe trust Rey COMPLETELY, I'm sorry about the first chapter, Redeemed Ben Solo, The First Order is far from gone, The Sith are far from gone too, but Rey and Ben still deserve a HEA, it gets happier i promise, realistic happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22465495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyEnterprise1701/pseuds/LadyEnterprise1701
Summary: With Palpatine defeated and the First Order in disarray, the Resistance embarks on its final push to liberate the Galaxy. But now they have a new problem on their hands: what to do with Ben Solo? How will justice and mercy find their final balance?(ON PERMANENT HIATUS--but I'm leaving this story here to remind me of how TROS got me back into Star Wars in such a huge way.)
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 19
Kudos: 42





	1. The Dyad Severed

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: (*waves*) Hi, guys, I'm back, and this time I'm 100% invested in Star Wars, haha. I'm one of those people who actually LOVED The Rise of Skywalker (it may be one of my favorite movies ever), but like everyone else, I've been grieving Ben Solo's death for the past month or so. Objectively speaking I love the fact that his character arc paralleled Anakin Skywalker's, even to his very last scene—but as a fangirl, my heart just wants a happier (but still realistic) resolution for him and Rey! And by "realistic" I mean that he still answers for the deeds of Kylo Ren, but he's still given the opportunity to prove his redemption and fight for the Light. 
> 
> So. Here's my own attempt at a TROS fix-it. It's been a while since I've been so steeped in the Star Wars universe, so forgive any inaccuracies. (Wookieepedia is always a big help, though.)
> 
> And I really do apologize for this first chapter. It gets happier, I promise.

_“Heal what has been hurt_

_Bring back what once was mine…”_

_—Tangled, “Healing Incantation”_

* * *

“I am _ALL_ of the Sith!” Palpatine screeched, hands raised to strike Rey with the same lightning that had fried the Resistance’s ramshackle fleet a few moments ago.

It was terrifying, especially with the voices of the Sith still roaring in her ears—but in spite of the disorienting flutter in her chest and her spinning, groggy head, Rey drew herself up to her full height. There were other voices in her head now—good, true, _loving_ voices that slowly but surely drowned out the fearful thunder of the Sith.

Somehow, she was pretty sure she’d heard Ben Solo’s voice calling out to her as well.

The Light was drowning out the Darkness. It always did.

“And I…” she growled, holding up Luke’s lightsaber. “I am all of the Jedi!”

She called for Leia’s lightsaber, the one that had been torn out of Ben’s hand. It slammed into her palm. Palpatine’s hideous eyes widened as she crossed both shining blades. He snarled, flinging his bony hands out towards her. A sizzling shaft of light struck the humming lightsabers.

But in spite of the searing heat, the blinding light, and the sensation of being crushed under the weight of her grandfather’s power, Rey of Jakku did not falter. She gritted her teeth and locked her furious gaze on the undead Sith-lord, daring him to defeat her now.

 _I will not be like you!_ she screamed through the Force. _He_ was where the dark whispers had always come from. He was the reason her parents were dead, the reason Ben had fallen into darkness, the reason Han Solo and Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa were dead, the reason Finn, Poe, Rose, and BB-8 were all in danger…

_And I will NEVER be like you._

_I am all of the Jedi, and I will save my family if it’s the last thing I do!_

As if he sensed her defiance growing, Palpatine snarled in frustration. He stretched his arms out a little further, trying to channel an extra burst of power into the lightning. Rey’s knees wobbled, but she let out a desperate scream and thrust the lightsabers forward.

This time it worked. With a crack, the lightning deflected back and slammed into Palpatine.

“ _NOOOOOOOOOO!”_ he screamed. The skin of his face bubbled, slipping away in a gory mess. Rey swallowed down a wave of nausea at the sight and gripped the lightsabers even tighter.

_Die! Just DIE! And don’t you ever, EVER dare to come back and haunt this world ever again!_

The pressure was too much. With a crack of thunder, Palpatine’s head disintegrated. His cloaks fell in a heap, the lightning vanished, and the chamber turned dark. A sudden wind tore at Rey’s clothes and hair. Stones shivered all around her, showering her with dust.

And then…silence.

Blessed, peaceful silence.

Rey dropped her arms and stepped forward, but her knees buckled and her stomach rolled. She gasped, staggered, tried to regain her balance, but something was wrong…her heart wasn’t beating right. _Her heart_. Frightened, she tried to take another step—only to draw up short with a choking cough. Pain radiated through her whole body. This was different than when she first woke up after Palpatine drained the energy from her bond with Ben. Then she’d just felt numb, but now…

Now she felt cold as ice.

She tried to focus, tried to turn around, tried to reach out to Ben. _So dizzy…so weak…_

One knee hit the stony ground.

 _No no no!_ A small voice shrieked in the back of her mind. _Get up! Don’t give in to this…stand up…on your feet…got to find Ben…!_

Rey wheezed for air and slammed her hands to the ground, but not even her arms could support her weight now. She crumpled in on herself, blind with exhaustion. Was this really what death felt like? Back on Jakku, her best dreams had centered around her parents rushing into town and buying her back from Unkar Plutt, tears of joy in their eyes. Her only recurring nightmare was of her dying alone before they could find her.

_And I…I’m alone…I’m going to die alone._

_Oh Ben…be with me…please be with me…_

The sting of tears was the last thing she knew before everything went black.

* * *

He knew as soon as consciousness returned that his leg was broken. Maybe a rib or two, as well.

And he knew that he was Han Solo’s son again when his first coherent thought was something along the lines of, _Well, that does make things a little messier, doesn’t it?_

Ben propped himself on one elbow with a painful grunt and looked up. He’d fallen a pretty good distance, but probably not as far as Palpatine would’ve liked. At least he could still see the top…and the flashes of lightning.

Rey was still up there. Through their Bond, he could feel her courage pushing past her fear.

_Rey._

His little scavenger. His brave, beautiful, fierce, full-of-faith-in-him Rey—

_She’s facing him alone._

That one thought cleared the groggy haze. Something hot and fierce flared in his chest, the same rage he’d felt when Snoke tried to kill her. Sure, she could probably handle Palpatine herself—if anyone could handle him alone, it _would_ be Rey—but everything in him still _screamed_ to defend her with his life.

Groaning through his teeth, he forced himself up onto his good leg. Sheer bullheaded stubbornness got him to the steep wall. By the time he found solid grips for his strong (if bloodied) fingers, he could hear Palpatine cackling in triumph.

 _I’ll kill you if you touch her,_ Ben thought ferociously, hurling himself up for the climb. _Just like I killed Snoke—just like I’ll kill anyone who—_

 _“BEN_.”

His mother’s voice called out to him across worlds, and Ben Solo’s heart dropped to his toes. His clenched teeth relaxed and his chin wobbled as tears sprang to his eyes.

_I’ve got to save her, Mom. I can’t lose everyone…I can’t._

_“I know_ ,” he heard her whisper back. “ _But even if you save her, you will lose her in a different way if you give into hate.”_

Ben drew in a shuddering breath and reached for a higher grip.

 _“Breathe_. _Just breathe. Save Rey because you love_ us _…not because you hate him.”_

The tears slipped down his cheeks. Groaning, Ben climbed higher, higher, letting the cathartic love and longing that he’d smothered for so long wash over him like waves. Longing for his mother’s embrace…his father’s smirk…his uncle’s quiet looks of pride and approval…Chewie’s roar…

And always Rey’s smile, Rey’s eyes, and Rey’s hand reaching out to him across galaxies. The memories filled him with a warmth that, unlike the flame of hate, did not scorch at all.

But at the bloodcurdling scream—Palpatine’s, not Rey’s—thundering off the walls, Ben froze in real terror. He pressed himself close to the wall, holding on tight as the whole planet trembled. It lasted only a few moments before everything went eerily silent. He lifted his head, looked around, and reached out.

 _Rey!_ he called through the Bond. _Rey!!_

Nothing. Not even a hint of her consciousness. He climbed faster, _faster_. When his fingers finally gripped the edge of the cliff, he nearly cried again from sheer relief. His broken leg dangled, but he just ground his teeth as it dragged against the rocks.

He’d made it. He was back in the throne room. Palpatine was gone; so were the ghostly Sith. An ominous rumble warned him that another earthquake was on its way, and he could still see the star war overhead—but otherwise, the place was quiet. Too quiet.

_Rey! REY!_

Still no response, but her still form lay in front of the throne. He hobbled to her as fast as he could and dropped to his good knee, then his hip. Quickly, gently, he hauled her into his lap, cradling her in the crook of his elbow. She fit perfectly in his arms.

But her head rolled back, limp and lifeless, and her hazel eyes were open and unseeing.

For a moment Ben just stared at her, not quite believing what lay before him.

 _She’s dead. She’s_ dead _._

_And it’s all my fault._

He tried and failed to swallow down the burning lump in his throat. He pressed her close, rocked her small form gently, and squeezed his eyes shut.

 _No, no, no…don’t leave me now, Rey. You’re my only hope. I turned for you and Mom, I swear I did. Come back, Rey. Be with me,_ please _!_

What was it Palpatine had called them? _A Dyad of the Force_. Ben recalled enough from his uncle’s sacred texts to know that a Dyad was a rare and beautiful thing—a bond that only happened once every couple thousand years, if that. Not even death could break such a connection. Seemed he even remembered something about how one half of the Dyad couldn’t die without the other following soon after…or maybe that was just his emotions talking.

Whatever the case, she _had_ saved him on Kef Bir. She’d shown him a mercy he hadn’t deserved by healing the stab wound she herself had inflicted. And if she was a Jedi, capable of working that kind of a miracle…and if _he_ was still a Jedi, in spite of everything he’d done…

Ben lowered Rey so he could see her face again. He swallowed hard enough this time and took a long, deep, calming breath. His broken ribs scraped together as he inhaled, but he ignored the pain, closed his eyes, let the breath go…

And brought one of his hands to rest against Rey’s slender waist.

_Be with me, Rey. Be with me, please._

A still, soft peace enveloped him. Exegol, throbbing with the hate of the Sith, had probably never known such tranquility. He blocked every memory of Rey except for the one he cherished more than anything: the image of her sitting in a warm hut on Ach-To, her hand reaching out to him. Their fingers had touched so briefly, but it had meant the world to him. Somebody had _wanted_ him in that moment, and the Light had never been so blindingly bright.

_Come back, Rey. Come back to me, please._

_Say it_ , his mother whispered from the edges of his mind. _Say what you truly mean, Son._

Ben pressed his lips together and concentrated on the energy swirling around him. The memory of Rey in the hut was so clear now, he could feel her fingertips on his, see the hope in her eyes, and hear her soft, shivery gasp. 

_I love you, Rey of Jakku_ , he whispered to the memory. _Come back…and be with me._

The Rey of his memory smiled—falteringly at first, like she couldn’t believe her own ears, then so brilliantly that it made his breath catch. He was aware, too, of his mother’s satisfied smile and the pride and relief of the Jedi who surrounded him, carrying him the last few steps into the Light.

When he heard a sharp gasp and felt her bloodied hand clutching his own, his eyes flew open. With a wheeze and a weary, confused blinking, she tried to lift her head from its uncomfortable angle against his forearm. He hastily cupped the back of her head in his hand. Still coughing, she gripped the front of his torn sweater and pulled herself up.

But when she looked at him, she froze. Ben held his breath. Maybe she’d forgotten everything; a good knock to the head could do that to you. The bruises and blood on her face told him she’d had more than her fair share today. He opened his mouth to say something, trying to be brave.

But before he could get a word out, the shock in her face melted away in the most joyful smile he’d ever seen.

“ _Ben!_ ” she cried.

He let go of the breath he’d been holding. She _knew_. She remembered everything.

And that was all that mattered.

* * *

_Hold on a minute, Rey—make sure you’re not dreaming!_

Rey almost laughed out loud at the thought. She was more awake and alive than she’d ever been, and _he_ was here. Of course she wasn’t dreaming!

But she still reached out and cupped his cheek in her hand, just to make sure he was really there. He shuddered and leaned into her palm, his breath hitching in his throat.

 _You’re alive_ , his deep, resonant voice whispered in her head. _You came back to me._

This time Rey really did laugh, and then she did something she’d never done before. She’d seen a few of the girls in the Resistance do it with their flyboys back at the Base, and it had awakened thoughts of Ben every time—but she’d never practiced with anyone else. Now she saw her chance and seized it. She took his face in both hands and crashed her lips against his.

Ben stiffened in surprise, but she felt his smile against her lips and heard a low, rumbling chuckle in his chest. His arms tightened around her and a wild, joyous heat flooded her entire being.

She pulled back, gasping for air. He leaned his forehead against hers, still smiling as he let out a long, contented sigh and ran his fingertips along her grimy cheek.

 _I love you_ , he murmured into her mind.

 _I know_ , she whispered back. _And I love you._

He raised his eyes to hers, dark and peaceful and so full of love that she almost kissed him again right then and there.

She knew something was wrong when he winced. She frowned, confused.

“Ben?” she said aloud.

His smile faltered and he let out a groan that, to be honest, sounded more surprised than pained. Rey cried out as he suddenly went limp in her arms.

“Ben! No no no no—what’s wrong?—Ben, _talk to me!_ ”

She just managed to thrust her hand behind his head, preventing him from slamming into the stony ground. His eyes were still open, but as she laid him down his eyelids fluttered and he groaned again, this time in real pain. Rey frantically checked his pulse and his heartbeat. Both were faint.

“Ben,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this. Please, stay with me.”

He swallowed with difficulty.

“Go,” he croaked. “Go, Rey…go…”

She pressed her quivering lips together and shook her head. “ _No_. No, I’m not leaving you. I’m going to save you.”

Ben smiled weakly. With an effort, he lifted his hand. Rey caught it and pressed his palm to her cheek.

“You already did,” he rasped.

Rey tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. She hated herself for it. A tear rolled down her cheek; he wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry…Sweetheart,” he whispered.

His eyes closed, his labored breathing stopped, and his hand went limp and dead in hers. 


	2. The Falcon Returns

_“Here I stand alone with this weight upon my heart_

_And it will not go away_

_In my head I keep on looking back_

_Right back to the start_

_Wondering what it was that made you change…”_

_—Rhydian Roberts, “What If”_

For a moment Rey couldn’t do anything but stare at Ben’s still face in utter confusion. Surely what had just happened _hadn’t_ happened. She was either dreaming or still dead. It actually made more sense that _she_ would still be dead, not him.

She still clutched his hand to her cheek. She lowered it to her chest and leaned closer.

“Ben?” she whispered, shaking him. “Ben…Ben, wake up.”

Nothing. With a wretched, ragged sob she pressed her forehead to his and wept like she hadn’t wept since…

Well, since Luke died. She’d barely had time to mourn Leia, and only with quiet crying as she’d laid a hand over Kylo Ren’s bloodied stomach, willing the Force to heal him.

It wasn’t fair. After all this time—after all that pleading with him through a connection she still didn’t quite understand—after all that _believing,_ in the very core of her being, that he would turn back to the Light— _this_ was how it ended?!

Sobbing, she dragged him into her lap and rocked him back and forth. She cried for her parents, for Luke and Leia, for Han…for Poe and Finn, for Chewie, for everyone who’d suffered under the Empire and the First Order. The image of a young Ben Solo, haunted by his grandfather’s legacy, only made her weep harder. Why did life have to be so _cruel_? She’d only ever wanted a family, and now…and now…

A faint but familiar presence just brushed her mind.

“Rey! _Reeeeeeeeeeeey!!!”_

Rey lifted her head with a coughing gasp. _It couldn’t be…could it?_ And yet there was no mistaking _that_ voice…or the tall, stocky figure running towards her as fast as his legs would take him, dark head flung back, arms pumping. The fierce and slightly-wild figure of a herdswoman pounded after him, gripping her staff. Rey laid Ben down and staggered upright, yelping as Finn caught her in a bear hug.

“I thought you were dead,” he cried, almost cackling with relief. “You _were_ dead—I felt it—!”

Rey jerked back in surprise. “Wait, you _knew_?! How did—”

 _“_ Then you _were_ dead!” Finn pressed a fierce kiss to her forehead before hugging her tight again. “I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t help it—sorry—you can punch me later—”

 _“_ What the _hell?!_ ”

Jannah’s horrified cry startled Finn out of the hug. Rey scrambled free and stepped backward, holding her arms out in front of Ben’s prone form.

“It’s okay,” she said, forcing herself to speak loud and slow. “He saved my life and—and now he’s dead.”

“Good riddance!” Jannah snarled. But Finn only stared at Rey, then at the body, then back at Rey. She couldn’t help it—she wanted to kick herself—but her chin wobbled and her eyes brimmed all over again at the astonished question in his dark, kind eyes.

“He turned, Finn,” she choked. “We fought Palpatine together—and yes, I _did_ die! But he brought me back, and it killed him, and I—I can’t just leave him here…”

Her voice cracked and she dropped her chin to her chest, ashamed and broken and so, so tired. Jannah said nothing, but Finn took a step closer. When he touched Rey’s arm, she staggered into his embrace with a sob.

“I wanted to help him so much!” she wailed into his chest. “Why—why— _why?!”_

“Shh, Rey.” He rubbed her back in slow, smooth circles. “It’s okay. It’s okay…”

“No, _it’s not!”_

“You’re right, it’s not.” Finn hesitated. “Look, the _Falcon’_ s waitin’ for us. General Calrissian and Chewie are out there, ready to take us home. I’ll help you carry him…if you want?”

“You can’t be serious, Finn,” Jannah deadpanned.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” Finn shot back.

“No,” Rey hiccuped, lifting her head. “I can carry him.”

Jannah frowned. “He was head and shoulders taller than you, Master. I don’t think—”

“It’s a Force thing,” Finn interrupted her. “Whatever you wanna do, Rey. You do look a little peaked, but if you wanna do it yourself…”

Rey just sniffled and wiped her eyes with the ball of her hand. She turned back to Ben, took a breath, held out her arms. With just a little concentration, the body rose off the ground and settled gently into her arms. She barely felt his weight, but her throat tightened again at the sight of his head tipped back and one arm hanging.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

* * *

They made the long walk through the empty stronghold of the Sith, eyes locked on the horizontal line of faint light beneath the low ceiling. But the closer Rey got to the light, the harder it became to think much about anything. Physically, she still felt a queer _awakeness_ after being brought back from the dead; mentally, she was numb. She kept her eyes on the light and tried not to look at Ben. Holding him with the help of the Force didn’t require much effort, but she was afraid that if her emotions ever got the better of her, she’d drop him.

Finn walked alongside her with deep concern in his young face, ready to take over if she needed him to. Jannah walked a step or two behind, keeping a wary distance from the body of the man she’d known only as Kylo Ren.

When they finally reached the edge of the Sith Temple, Rey drew a sharp, shaky breath. Fresh air hit her full in the face, propelled towards them by the humming engines of the _Millennium Falcon_.

Finn spoke into the comm strapped to his wrist. “General? We’re here.”

Lando Calrissian’s voice came back, sharp and clear: _“We’re coming.”_

Finn laid a hand on Rey’s shoulder blade. She nodded, stepping forward just as the _Falcon_ ’s back hatch flew open. The General ran down at full speed, followed by Rose Tico, BB-8 and D-O, and Chewie. When they all reached the bottom of the ramp and realized who she carried, they stopped short. Rey’s eyes swam.

“ _Rey_ ,” Lando breathed.

Chewie’s gaze went straight to Ben. At his long, low, grief-stricken moan, Rey began to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I brought him home. I—”

The words crumbled in her throat. Before she could pull herself back together Chewie was there, taking Ben into his huge, powerful arms like he weighed no more than a feather. Rey let him, too mentally exhausted to argue. Rose rushed to her side, throwing a blanket around her and winding a sisterly arm around her shoulders.

“Come on,” she soothed, rubbing Rey’s arm. “Let’s get you to the medbay.”

A worried BB-8 hummed at their feet. Rey sniffled hard and squatted, taking his little head in her hands. He wobbled joyfully at her touch, but his lights remained dim with concern.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay. And I’m so glad to see you in one piece. You too, D-O.”

“Th-th-thank you,” the tiny droid stuttered.

“Come on up into the ship,” Lando murmured. “Let’s not stay on this godforsaken world any longer than we have to.”

* * *

Within minutes Rey found herself in the medbay, her eyes on Ben as he lay on the bed while Rose hurried around the room, gathering medical supplies. She had told Lando about Luke’s X-Wing; even here in the depths of the _Falcon_ she felt the pull of the tractor beam as it tugged the legendary plane along into space.

Chewie sat beside Ben, unmoving and silent. Rey would’ve given a million credits to know what he was thinking. She considered probing his thoughts before deciding such an invasion of his privacy would be too awful. Not only would it be wrong, but she couldn’t imagine his grief.

Kylo Ren _had_ killed Chewie’s best friend, after all. But he was also Ben Solo, the boy Chewie had known and loved since infancy. Han, Leia, and Ben had been the only family Chewie had left.

And now…

_And now…_

_“_ Let me look at your hands, Rey.”

Rey gave herself a shake and realized Rose knelt before her, her sweet face drawn with anxiety. Slowly, Rey held out her bloodied hands. Rose took them, gently dabbing the torn knuckles with a wet cloth. Whatever she’d dipped it in, it brought a soothing coolness over the broken skin.

“Where is Poe?” Rey whispered.

Rose smiled a little. “He’s okay—Lando talked to him—and so is R2-D2. They’re leading us all back to base.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. Ships from all over the Galaxy came to fight with us. It was beautiful, Rey…you should’ve seen it.”

Rey tried smiling back, but the memory of Palpatine’s lightning paralyzing the Resistance ships filled her head and made her sick. Only Lando’s return from the cockpit with Finn and Jannah on his heels saved her from dwelling on it too long.

“Well, that’s it,” the General said. “We’re in lightspeed, on our way home—and I’ve got her on autopilot, so that gives us plenty of time to…” He paused and glanced at Ben, a tremor of sorrow passing over his expression. “Well…to hear your part of the story, Rey.”

“Of course,” Rey murmured. “And you _need_ to hear it. All of it.”

“If you’re not ready…” Finn began.

“ _No_ ,” she interrupted. “I’ve _got_ to tell you. There’s more to it than any of us realized, and…and you need to know who I am.”

Finn cocked his head. Rey’s heart pounded at the thought of telling _him_ about her heritage— _and yet he’s never judged or condemned me for anything, not even for hoping Ben would turn. And I’ve certainly never judged him for his life before we found each other_.

The thought gave her courage. She could trust him with this story. In fact, the only one in this room who made her nervous was Jannah—and only because Jannah didn’t know her well.

“Kylo Ren,” she began slowly, “found me on the old Death Star.”

“Yeah, I know,” Finn said. “Jannah and I saw you fighting. I’ve never been so scared for you in all my—”

“Son,” Lando murmured. “Let the girl talk.”

“In the middle of our fight,” Rey continued, “we both heard Leia’s voice through the Force. She called out to him—to _Ben_ —and he froze. I guess I was still so angry and caught up in the duel, I didn’t even stop. I stabbed him…with his own lightsaber.”

Jannah raised her eyebrows.

“But as soon as I did it,” Rey said, her voice dropping to a numb whisper, “Leia died. I could _feel_ it…and so could he. And I couldn’t bear it. He just…he just _sank_ …and we were both crying.”

She looked up at Finn. “I healed him. Like I healed the serpent.”

“But _why_?” Jannah cried. “Why not just let the monster die?!”

Rey scrunched her face in an effort not to cry again. “Because he was _Leia’s._ And she was the only mother I’ve ever known. I couldn’t leave him to die like that. And he…I…I…”

Rose looked up, pausing in the middle of bandaging Rey’s hands. Rey met her encouraging gaze and caught her breath.

“I knew, somehow, some way, that Ben Solo was still in him. I wanted to give him one last chance to let Kylo Ren die and become Ben Solo again. So I healed him, and then I came to Exegol…and I found Palpatine.”

No one said a word, but a chill fell over the room. Even Chewie lifted his head.

“I spoke with him,” Rey said, looking straight at Finn. “He was my grandfather.”

“ _What?!”_ Lando blurted.

Rey nodded, quaking. “My father was his son. I don’t know how—and I don’t know that I _want_ to know how—but it’s true. And my father and mother died trying to protect me from him.” She shivered at the thought. “I wanted to kill him. He said that if I did, I could save the Resistance, but I’d become all of the Sith.”

“But you’re _not_ all of the Sith,” Finn cried. “And he’s dead—he’s _gotta_ be dead—”

“He’s definitely dead,” Rey said firmly. “But only because when I was just about to strike him down, I realized Ben Solo had come for me.”

Chewie’s eyes locked on her. Rey smiled wanly and nodded.

“I knew right away that he’d turned to the Light. He just felt so _free_. We fought Palpatine together for as long as we could, but…but the Emperor threw him off a cliff and only I was left. The Jedi helped me, Finn,” she said, her voice strengthening. “They helped me defeat Palpatine once and for all. But it did kill me.”

Finn swallowed so hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing over his collar.

“I know I was dead—I can feel it in my bones. But Ben somehow made it back to me, and he…” Rey’s gaze drifted back to the body. “He gave me _his_ life. All of it. He died to bring me back.”

Rose glanced at Finn, and Lando’s gaze returned to Ben. Chewie’s head sagged. Even Jannah looked moved by the story.

“Well,” she muttered, “I never would’ve thought it of Kylo Ren.”

“Kylo Ren died on Kef Bir,” Rey murmured. “Ben Solo died on Exegol.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he made the choice to become Kylo Ren,” Lando said quietly. “But he did the right thing in the end. Just like his grandfather.”

Rey nodded, her lips quivering. Lando stepped towards the bed and laid a hand on Ben’s forehead.

“I loved the kid, y’know,” he whispered.

Chewie groaned.

“I know you did, my friend,” Lando said. “And it broke my heart when Han told me he’d gone to the First Order. But it is what it is. I’m just glad he died at peace with someone else who loved him.”

With that, he looked straight at Rey. She dropped her eyes to her bandaged hands, well aware the others were staring at her in surprise. Not even Finn knew much about her Bond with Ben Solo.

“I did,” she quavered. “I loved Ben Solo. I loved the man I knew he could be.”

Lando smiled. He stepped away from the bed and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“And I think,” he whispered, “that he probably loved _you_ for it, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last sad chapter, I promise! Things change dramatically next time ;) 
> 
> (By the way, for those who may want to know my posting schedule, my plan is to share a new chapter every Wednesday and Saturday.)


	3. The Grace of the Light

_“So level up and love again_

_Call it any name you need_

_Call it your 2.0, your rebirth, whatever--_

_So long as you can feel at all,_

_So long as all your doors are flung wide._

_Call it your day #1 in the rest of forever.”_

_—Vienna Tang, “Level Up”_

Whispers.

Whispers in the dark.

_“These are your first steps, Ben. Rise…and take them.”_

Ben stirred. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. With an effort he twitched his fingers, making contact with…grass?

 _Where am I?_

“Ben.”

 _Mom?_ His forehead creased, but he couldn’t open his eyes. It was like they’d been glued shut.

_“Come back to the Light, Ben. Just as I did.”_

All right…that voice _definitely_ wasn’t one he recognized. With a grunt he jerked his head to the side, trying to break free of the paralyzing numbness that had settled over his whole body.

“That’s right, Ben. Come back. Come back to the Light…”

The whispers were getting louder, closer.

“ _Come back…come back…come back…”_

_“Rise, Ben…”_

_“Rise, Last of the Skywalkers.”_

_“You are not alone, Ben.”_

Panic surged through him at that last voice: _Uncle Luke?!_ He was really waking up now. He curled his fingers. Bent his knees. Strained.

_“The Force will be with you, my grandson. Always.”_

“Ben, look at me!”

With a gasping, roaring cry Ben’s eyes flew open. He bolted up onto his elbows, breathing hard, scrambled to his feet—and froze.

He was in a cool, dark place lit only by moonlight and stars…and he was surrounded. Figures in white circled him, but they were solid, not spectral. Rather than the faint blue glow he’d always associated with Force Ghosts, they shimmered in white. All regarded him with varying degrees of affection, pride, and curiosity. As soon as he spotted the only woman among them, his knees quaked.

“Mom,” he breathed.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hello, Ben.”

Ben took a step towards her, then stopped. He glanced at the peaceful faces around him, turning slowly so he could take them all in. The only one he knew for sure was Uncle Luke, which was a little unsettling in and of itself—but he’d heard the stories often enough as a little boy to guess who the others were.

Yoda…Obi-Wan Kenobi…and Anakin Skywalker.

 _“_ Ben,” Leia whispered, stepping into the circle she and her fellow Jedi had formed around him. “Calm down. You’re safe, you’re home…and I am _so_ proud of you.”

He clenched his fists. “No. No, Mom…you have no reason to be.”

Leia raised her eyebrows, a challenge if ever he’d seen one. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because—“ The word strangled in his throat, a thousand memories hammering him like the furious waves on Kef Bir. “Because I _killed_ you.”

Leia frowned. “No, you didn’t. I gave my life for you.”

Ben gritted his teeth and attempted a shrug. “Same thing.”

“ _No_ , Ben. I called out to you, knowing good and well that the very effort might kill me, because I _wanted_ to. Because I _love_ you.” She took his hand before he could step away from her, cradling it between her palms. Her touch confirmed his suspicion: whatever magic was in this place, it made her as solid as if she were still alive. “By your logic, Rey is responsible for _your_ death _—_ but I don’t think you’d ever lay that kind of blame at her feet, would you?”

Ben dropped his gaze. “No. Never.”

“Why not?”

He shuddered at the memory of Rey’s dead eyes, her limp weight in his arms, and the agonizing grief he’d felt when he realized the electric Bond between them was lifeless. “Because…because she is _good_ , and I’m a monster. If anyone deserves to live, it should be Rey. Not me.” 

He looked up just in time to see his mother’s expression go from defiant to stricken. Ben exhaled shakily, but he kept his head up, willing himself to look like he believed every word he’d just said—because he _did._ And he certainly would _not_ quail at either her horror or the condemnation of the other, silent Jedi.

But that combination of the sheer bullheadedness and pride he’d inherited from both his parents vanished when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Anakin Skywalker take a step forward. Suddenly (and quite rationally) afraid, Ben tore his eyes from his mother’s face and jerked his hand free.

“You think you’re unworthy of a second chance,” Anakin said, a knowing, almost cocky glint in his young eyes. “And you’re right. You _are_ unworthy. We all are…and no one more than me.”

Ben blinked. “ _Darth Vader_. You were Darth Vader.”

Anakin smirked. “Don’t say it too many times. The rest of them will accuse me of letting it go to my head.”

A guttural sound came from Uncle Luke’s direction. Ben could’ve sworn it was a chuckle, but the thought of his uncle laughing was just too bizarre to dwell on right now.

“Yes,” Anakin continued, more serious now. “I _was_ Darth Vader. But I was shown mercy by someone who had unrelenting faith in me, and like you, I turned back to the Light just in time. You’re not looking at a soul in conflict anymore. I wasn’t worthy of it, but I _have_ found peace. So will you, if you allow the Light to finish what it’s started.”

“Trust us,” Obi-Wan put in gently. “If you were still Kylo Ren, you would not be here.”

“But I _was_ Kylo Ren!” Ben shouted, flinging out his hands. “I swore allegiance to the Dark Side! I slaughtered _millions—_ and I—”

“Oh, will you just _stop_?” Luke Skywalker groaned.

Everyone stared at him, Ben included. Luke shook his head, and this time _he_ stepped into his nephew’s space.

“Yes,” he said, low and insistent, “you _were_ Kylo Ren. And you will never forget those days. No matter what you do, you will _never_ lose the memory or the consequences of those sins…anymore than I’ve lost my own.”

He paused, looking Ben straight in the eye. Ben recalled an emerald lightsaber over his head, followed by his own panic and a flood of power he hardly knew he possessed. But in this otherwordly place, his own pain and regret met Luke’s sorrowful remorse without either of them having to say a word.

And like a rotting vine that had finally lost its grip on a stronger, healthier plant, a dark and painful knot finally loosened in the center of his gut.

“You’ll never forget those days,” Luke whispered, still holding his gaze. “But you _aren’t_ Kylo Ren anymore. That man died the moment he threw his own lightsaber into the ocean. You’re Ben Solo again, the son of my sister and my very best friend…and I love you.”

Ben drew a shuddering, watery breath. 

“The Grace of the Light, it is,” Yoda croaked beside Obi-Wan. “Chosen you, it has.”

“F-for what?” Ben stammered.

A gentle smile tugged at Luke’s weathered face. “For another chance at life.”

Ben stared, eyes widening. “You mean—”

“Yes,” Leia whispered, clasping his hand again. “You aren’t here to stay, Son, not yet. You’ve been granted another chance to serve the Light, restore the Republic, and become a Jedi again.”

“Not to mention another chance to be with Luke’s pretty apprentice,” Anakin deadpanned.

Obi-Wan shot him the unmistakable look of someone who’s had to deal with a merciless tease for far too long. 

“It won’t be easy,” Luke warned. “The Resistance won’t trust you at first. They may even try and tear you to pieces, hoping your blood will right all the wrongs ever inflicted since the Battle of Endor. But Ben…you _know_ who you are now. The Light is in you. It never really left. Make amends, by all means, when you can—but _never_ forget who you truly are.”

“Who are you, Son?” Leia prodded.

Ben took a long, bracing breath and drew himself up to his full height. As he did, he realized for the first time that he no longer wore his torn, black, bloodied clothes.

He was clad in the white robes and brown hood of a Jedi Knight.

“I am Ben Solo,” he said, his deep voice gaining in strength. “And I am a Jedi…like my mother before me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told ya Chapter Three would be a game-changer. (*wink*) And I know it was a short one, but I've got a MUCH longer and very epic "Reunion Chapter" coming for you on Saturday!


	4. The Rise of Skywalker

_“We still have time to change our ways._

_When these endless, lonely days are through,_

_I'll make the most of loving you…”_

_—_ _Mary-Jess Leaverland, “Did I Make the Most of Loving You?”_

BB-8 was a restless little droid tonight. Normally he’d be sitting at Rey’s feet, burbling about his day—and since his days usually consisted of things like finding a patch of pretty flowers in the forests of Ajan Kloss, helping R2-D2 restore a corrupted file in Leia’s main computer, or playing a game of catch with the few children who lived on the base, it was often a _very_ happy conversation.

Tonight, however, everything was different. There was sadness aboard the _Millennium Falcon,_ even after the Big Fight in which he, BB-8, had played a part _._

Captain Lando and Chewie were silent in the cockpit. Finn didn’t want to play roll-the-ball, and Rose had taken Rey to clean up and eat. When Rey came back, she _was_ a little cleaner, but even BB-8 could see that she didn’t want to talk. She looked…well…

The droid searched his vocabulary banks for the word he wanted.

 _Empty_. Yes…Rey looked empty.

His antenna drooped as he rolled slowly through the familiar corridors of the _Falcon._ His sensors caught D-O following him, but he kept his head down and continued rolling.

“Wh-why is the Nice Girl s-sad?” D-O stammered.

BB-8 whined sadly in Binary. _“She’s empty.”_

“O-oh. Wh-why?”

BB-8 offered a trailing little sigh. _“I don’t knoooooooooow.”_

“I-is it the D-D-D-Dead Person?”

BB-8 paused and lifted his head, remembering. Rey had been crying when she came aboard, and she _had_ been holding the Dead Person. BB-8 had no recollection of the man’s face in his memory banks, but he’d been there for the Big Talk in the medbay and knew the man was more than just a Dead Person. They’d called him _Kylo Ren_ and _Ben Solo_ , and while BB-8 might not have known the second name very well, he certainly knew the first.

“ _Maaaaaaaaybe?”_ he offered worriedly.

D-O tipped his conical head. He seemed to be thinking. Then, without explanation, he wheeled himself at a quicker pace down the corridor. BB-8’s lights brightened with curiosity.

_“Where are you gooooooing?!?!?”_

D-O didn’t answer. BB-8 hurried after him, nearly passing the medbay before backtracking with a muffled wail. D-O had gone _in there_ , staring up at the bed where the Dead Person lay.

“ _What are you doooooooing?!”_

“C-curious,” D-O stuttered. A hatch opened in his head and a thin, steel instrument emerged. BB-8 squealed in horror as D-O tapped the Dead Person’s hand.

 _“STOOOOOOOOP! Rey might get…”_ BB-8 shuddered. “ _Angryyyyyyyyy.”_

D-O jerked his prodder back with a start. BB-8 immediately felt sorry. Someone had been mean to D-O once upon a time—something BB-8 really couldn’t fathom, since Poe had always been so good to him. Rey-Friend could get frustrated with sometimes, but she had never been unkind.

 _“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”_ BB-8 warbled, hurrying into the medbay. “ _Not really angryyyyyy. Just sad.”_

“Oh,” said D-O, and clicked the prodder back into his head.

BB-8, however, did not leave the room. With slow, quiet movements, he rolled closer to the bed. His one eye just barely cleared the edge of the bed, so he could at least see the Dead Person’s face. It was very still. BB-8’s lights dimmed again as he thought of Rey’s sad eyes.

 _“Poor Reyyyyyyyyyyyy_ ,” he burbled. “ _Poooooooooooor Reyyyyyyyyyyyy…_ ”

And then the kind little droid squeaked and stiffened as he felt a heavy hand drop onto his head. D-O rattled backwards in alarm. BB-8 didn’t dare move.

“Rey.” The voice was faint and hoarse, but BB-8 could’ve sworn it came from the Dead Person. “Rey…”

That was too much, even for the bravest little droid who’d just helped Resistance fighters storm a First Order Dreadnought. BB-8 let out a terrified shriek and rolled backwards, nearly knocking D-O off balance. The Dead Person’s arm fell over the edge of the bed. Even more frighteningly, he _winced_.

“ _Reyyyyyyyyy!”_ BB-8 screamed, hurtling out of the room with D-O spinning after him. _“Reyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!”_

* * *

Rey shivered, pulling the warm grey blanket Rose had given her closer around her slight frame. Two whole ration packets had finally satisfied her gnawing hunger, but the closer they got to Ajan Kloss the more chilled and stupid she felt. The sparkling energy after being brought back to life had faded, and there was a hollow place in her mind where the Bond used to be. 

Funny how she’d gotten used to it, even when she’d spent most of the time incredibly conflicted over her feelings for the person on the other end.

Finn, mopping up the last of his meal with a piece of bread, watched her anxiously. “You doing okay, Rey?”

She started to nod, then thought better of it. Finn would know if she was lying. She shook her head instead and drew her legs up to her chest.

“No,” she murmured, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. “I feel like I’m one of those holographic chess pieces, and Chewie and Poe have been knocking me around too much.”

“Holographic chess?” Jannah asked, eagerly looking up from her own meal. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never played it.”

Finn smiled. “I’ll show you the board in a bit. Just don’t let Chewie play. We’re all pretty sure he cheats.”

Rey tried to grin—she’d watched Chewie thrash Finn and Poe at chess enough times to be pretty sure of his cheating herself—but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Maybe you should try to sleep, Rey,” Rose suggested. “We won’t be home for another hour yet, anyway. It might make you feel better.”

“Maybe,” Rey said. She leaned against her cushioned seat, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. But as soon as she did, Palpatine’s hideous face rose up in her memory like a flash of lightning. She bolted upright again with a gasp, startling her friends.

“No…no, not yet,” she said, rubbing her face. “I’m going to have nightmares, and I’m not ready to deal with them yet.”

Rose tilted her head to the side in sympathy. Jannah looked away, uncomfortable. Finn, however, gazed at her not just with sympathy, but _empathy._ He got to his feet; Rey watched him, unsure of what he was going to do, until he sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I know,” he said. “And it’s okay.”

Of course he knew; he’d confessed to her before that he had nightmares, too. He still dreamed of his old life in the First Order…of his Stormtrooper training…of Jakku, where he couldn’t bring himself to mow down the innocent civilians…of Kylo Ren trying to invade his mind…

 _Force around us_ , Rey thought bitterly, _we’ve all suffered too much._

She scooted closer to her dearest friend and laid her head on his shoulder. As he rubbed her arm, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, she allowed her eyes to flutter shut again. Palpatine’s face crashed into her mind, but this time she screwed up her eyelids, clamped her lips, and fought the memory with a fervent plea:

_“BE WITH ME.”_

Instantly, Palpatine vanished. So did the _Falcon._ She was back in that heart-stopping moment on Exegol when Ben’s mind first called out to hers. She’d been seconds away from striking down her grandfather, but as soon as she’d seen Ben smiling at her across their Bond…

 _“I’m here_ ,” he’d whispered, his deep, resonant voice sending a shock wave across their connection. _“It’s me, Rey. I’m here_ …”

 _“I’m here_.”

Rey frowned and cracked one eye open. Finn still rubbed her arm, probably hoping she’d finally drift off to sleep, Rose had tiptoed away with Jannah to the chess table, and she could hear General Calrissian hailing the rest of the fleet…and yet she could’ve sworn she heard an echo. 

_“Rey.”_

She sat up with a soft gasp. Finn jerked his arm back, startled.

“Rey? What is it?”

_“Rey.”_

Something jumped in her chest, and it wasn’t just her heartbeat. “It can’t be…”

“What are you talking abou— _Rey_?!”

But she was already on her feet, throwing aside the blanket and pounding out of the room as fast as she could. The voice _had_ come from the medbay. She was sure of _that_ , just like she was sure the feeble sparks of electricity running along her lifeless Bond with Ben Solo were no accidents. 

_Oh please_ , she begged. _Please let this be real. Please be real…please be with me…_

 _“Reyyyyyyyyyyyy!”_ BB-8 shrieked, hurtling towards her with D-O. “ _He moved! The Dead Person moooooooooooved—!”_

The Bond sizzled and popped again like torn wires coming back together. “Come on!” she cried, racing past the little droids; they spun around and rolled after her. She clamped her hands on the medbay doorframe, pausing just long enough to catch her breath, and stumbled to the bed.

Ben lay flat on his back, his eyes closed. One arm hung limp over the edge of the bed. Rey caught his hand, held it against her heart, and laid her other palm on his forehead.

“Ben,” she whispered. “Ben, I hear you. Please wake up, please…”

“Rey!” Finn cried, tumbling into the room. “What the heck are you doing?”

BB-8 squealed. “ _The Dead Person moooooooooooooved! He moooooooooooved!”_

“What d’you mean, he moved?!”

“ _Hush!”_ Rey cried. “Let me concentrate!”

Finn and the droids went silent; when Rose and Jannah burst in, he silenced them a sharp look. Rey leaned closer to Ben, smoothing back his hair. As she leaned closer she could still smell the salt of Kef Bir’s ocean on his skin.

“Ben, I know you’re there. I can feel you again.” She pressed her lips to his temple and leaned her forehead against his. “Be with me. Please, _please_ be here with me.”

For a moment, her mind remained empty. It was like she was back on Exegol: solitary, small, and frightened. The Bond still hummed, but the throbbing power had subsided…

Until Ben’s fingers seized around her hand, his eyelids flew open, and his chest rose in a rasping, choking breath. Finn hollered, Rose shrieked, and Jannah swore—but Ben only wheezed, oblivious to the commotion around him. Rey pressed her palm against his cheek.

“Ben! Ben, look at me. It’s okay—just breathe—shh—it’s all right—I’ve got you!”

He either couldn’t hear her or couldn’t focus long enough to take a deep breath: he just coughed and gasped, his panicked eyes locked on the ceiling. Remembering how hard he’d hit the rocks when Palpatine threw him into the pit, Rey extended her left hand over his ribs. Carefully— _very_ carefully, since she still didn’t feel so vibrant herself—she transmitted some of her strength to him.

 _Breathe_ , she commanded him, closing her eyes _. Just breathe._

Almost immediately, he relaxed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose.

“That’s it,” Rey whispered, tears blinding her. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

His eyes opened and landed— _finally_ —on her. Suddenly, she was the one who couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Wh-what for?” she stammered.

He turned his head to the side, his gaze landing on a quivering BB-8. “For scaring the droids.”

At that, Rey let out a sobbing laugh. Ben smiled, lifting a finger to wipe the stray tears from her jawline. She kissed his hand before turning eagerly to her friends.

“Finn, Rose, Jannah,” she said, “I’d like you to meet Ben Solo.”

For a moment none of them said a word; they were still gaping at the scene before them. But then Finn— _of course it would be Finn_ , Rey thought proudly—stepped forward, clenching and unclenching his hands, looking as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to scowl or stare with all his eyes.

“Nice to meet you…Ben.” 

In spite of his obvious weariness, Ben looked him in the eye. “Nice to meet you, too…uh…”

“Finn,” the former Stormtrooper said firmly. “My name is Finn.”

“Finn,” Ben whispered. Through the now-vibrant Bond Rey glimpsed a stunned Stormtrooper in a decimated village, but Ben clamped down on it and the picture disappeared. Finn rocked on his heels, still doing funny things with his hands.

“I wanted to thank you for…y’know…saving Rey,” he blurted. “She’s my best friend. Honestly, I don’t know what any of us would’ve done without her—but I know I basically owe her everything. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re good. Good to go. We’re square, okay? Totally square. I think I’m talking too much.”

“It’s okay, Finn,” Rey murmured, smiling through her tears. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you all forgetting what he’s done, though?” Jannah demanded. “Does _he_ remember his men dragging me from my home when I was just a tyke? Or how he killed his own father?”

“Jannah…” Rose pleaded.

“No,” Ben groaned, trying to sit up. “Let her talk. She deserves the chance to say whatever she wants.”

Rey tried to help him _and_ avoid Jannah’s angry eyes at the same time. Fear quivered on his end of the Bond, but once he’d propped himself up on his elbows, he gave all his attention to Jannah. Under the quiet, resolute gaze of the former Supreme Leader, the fiery young woman blinked and shifted from one foot to the other.

“I remember all of it,” he said, each word slow and measured. “And I don’t blame you for hating me.”

Jannah’s eyes flickered.

“But if you’ll give me a chance,” Ben added, “I’ll do my best to make it right.”

“You can _never_ make it right,” Jannah said, though Rey noticed her voice didn’t contain quite as much venom. “You may be able to come back from the dead, but I doubt even you can change the past.”

Ben glanced at his feet. “No…I can’t. But I can try to undo the hurt I’ve caused you. I _want_ to do that. I don’t think I would’ve been allowed to come back if I didn’t.”

“ ‘Allowed?’ “ Rey repeated. “What do you mean?”

He gave her the smallest of smiles. “I’ll tell you la—”

“What in blazes is going on down here?” Lando Calrissian suddenly boomed, materializing in the corridor. “We heard a commotion and figured we’d better—”

He stopped short at the sight before him; Chewie, close on his heels, did the same. For a moment Rey was genuinely afraid the Wookiee might fly into a rage. The death of Han Solo, after all, could never be forgotten. Maybe not even forgiven.

But Chewie only stood there and stared. Ben’s eyes glistened. The General looked like a feather could knock him over.

“Well, I’ll be,” he murmured.

Ben swallowed so hard, Rey could hear it. “Uncle Lando. Chewie. I—”

But before he could say anything else, Chewie lunged into the room. Rey stiffened, prepared to throw herself between them, but the big, kindly creature merely threw his huge arms around Ben and all but crushed him to his chest. Ben gasped. Rey tugged frantically on the Wookiee’s arm.

“Careful, Chewie!” she cried. “He’s still a little bruised—go easy on him!”

“It’s fine,” Ben groaned as Chewie let him go. “I nearly got smothered by a Wookiee’s hug more than once as a kid. Never killed me.”

Chewie grunted and looked hard at him; Rey held her breath, well aware he was trying one last time to find a trace of Kylo Ren in the son of his two best friends. Ben must’ve known it, too. He looked straight up at the Wookiee, his own eyes large, dark, and clear.

Finally, Chewie moaned softly and laid a massive, hairy hand atop Ben’s head. Ben slumped in relief, letting out a weak chuckle as Chewie ruffled his dark hair and offered a gruff comment.

“Yeah,” Ben murmured, smiling through tears. “I missed you, too.”

* * *

“We need a plan before we come out of hyperspace,” Lando said, checking the chronometer on his wrist. “We may run into some trouble once our friends find out who’s aboard the _Falcon_ , and none of us want to be caught off guard.”

Only a few minutes had passed since he and Chewie entered the medbay, but already Rey’s mind had turned in the same direction. Ben still hadn’t released her hand, and the steady but slightly possessive tenderness flowingfrom his end of the Bond was a bit distracting. She needed to focus...think like a leader… _think like a Jedi._ She cleared her throat and tipped her head back a little.

“You’re right,” she replied to Lando, her voice firm and precise. “Ben mustn’t leave the _Falcon_ until you and I tell the rest of the Resistance Command _exactly_ what’s happened.”

“I can stay aboard the _Falcon_ with him,” Rose offered. “BB-8, too.”

BB-8 burbled in agreement, but Rey smiled and shook her head. “No, BB-8 had better leave with us. Poe will accuse me of all kinds of horrible things if he doesn’t see his child right away.”

“What about Ben?” Finn asked. “What does _he_ want to do?”

Rey frowned. She hadn’t considered the possibility that Ben might have his own ideas about how to handle his… _return? Restoration?_ She simply wanted to make sure he wasn’t ripped to shreds by people who’d prefer to shoot Kylo Ren first and ask questions later.

Then again, he _was_ the master tactitian in the room. It didn’t matter where he’d learned it. He knew how to…arrange things. For maximum effect.

She looked down at him questioningly. “Ben?”

He inhaled, squared his shoulders. “I’ve spent the last seven years defying the Resistance. Hiding from them, plaguing them, terrifying them. I don’t want to make their job any harder now than it has to be.” He gave her hand a little squeeze. “I want them to see me, Rey. I want them to know I’m not afraid of their judgment. In fact, I _welcome_ it.”

“Well, _I_ won’t welcome it if someone takes a potshot at you,” she said fiercely.

Ben ran his thumb along the top of her hand. “I’m sure you’d be more than capable of blocking one, if you believed it was necessary.”

Rey cocked her head to the side with a stricken look. Rose cleared her throat.

“Umm, maybe we should go and make sure things are, y’know, all nice and locked down for our landing?” she said loudly. “The _Falcon_ did get a little banged up during the battle. She might not want to settle down smoothly—”

“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Finn said, waving a dismissive hand.

Rose skewered him with a meaningful glare. Finn remained oblivious for half a second before his eyes widened.

“ _Oh,”_ he said. Lando smirked. Jannah rolled her eyes.

“Come on, everybody,” she said, jerking her head towards the corridor. “I may have been stuck on Kef Bir for the last few years, but I still know how to take a hint.”

“Thanks, Rose,” Rey murmured. Rose dimpled, grabbed Finn’s sleeve, and dragged him out. Lando clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

“Hang in there, Starfighter,” he said gently. “If you want anyone in your corner, it’s _her_.”

“I know,” Ben murmured. Rey’s face warmed. Lando smiled at her, and then he and Chewie and the droids left the medbay, the door hissing shut behind them.

For the first time since Exegol, they were alone. Rey’s heart thundered in her chest. Ben lowered his head and continued running his thumb along the top of her hand. It was as tender as it was absentminded. She drew a fragile breath and touched his shoulder.

“How?” she whispered.

She didn’t have to elaborate. He understood, studying her scrapes before he replied.

“I saw my mom,” he said, so soft and low that she almost didn’t catch it. “And Uncle Luke. Yoda. Obi-Wan.”

Rey’s eyes widened. She’d instinctively recognized Yoda and Obi-Wan’s voices when they spoke to her on Exegol. She couldn’t help feeling a little jealous that he’d actually _seen_ them.

“They told me I’d been granted a second chance,” Ben continued, staring at an undefinable spot on the wall. “When I asked them why, Yoda used a phrase I don’t think I ever heard or read in all the years I was…”

His voice trailed off. Rey touched the back of his head. 

“All the years you were your uncle’s padawan?” she offered, running her fingertips through his hair.

He nodded, his thumb moving faster along her hand. “Yoda said ‘the Grace of the Light’ had chosen me for a second chance. I got the impression it doesn’t happen very often.”

“No,” Rey deadpanned. “Just twice in less than twenty-four hours.”

Ben let out a short, chuckling breath. “They also said that as long as I know who I am and stand on it, it’ll give me the strength I need to prove myself to the Resistance. They never seemed to doubt that I’d be successful. I suppose that counts for something.”

“Well, _I_ know who you are,” Rey said. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Ben Solo.”

He met her gaze then, and the look in his eyes made her heart—and her stomach—do all manner of strange things again. Never taking his eyes off her face, he tugged her hand. Rey didn’t even hesitate: she settled herself on his knee, shivering as his arms instantly closed around her.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathed. 

Rey giggled. “Well, that’s a first. No one’s ever told me that.”

“ _Really_?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I grew up on Jakku, remember? I was a sand-covered scavenger who spent the first nineteen years of my life avoiding attention. Never would’ve happened.”

“Are you really only nineteen?” he murmured. His gaze was drifting down towards her lips and chin and it was getting hard to think straight.

“Um…no. I’m twenty now. I think.” She tried to keep her own eyes on his and failed miserably. “How old are you?”

“Older than you,” he teased.

“Not fair.”

He chuckled again and she grinned so wide, she was sure she looked like an idiot. Tenderly, she tucked his hair behind his ear. He shuddered and leaned in close, just brushing her nose with his own…and without either of them having to make eye contact again, he tilted his head to the side and kissed her.

Their first kiss had been outrageously happy, fierce, and far too short. This one was different: this was slow and tender, almost _leisurely_. Rey’s head went light as he kissed her over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough and yet wanted to savor every single moment. Heat flooded her chest and face. She felt like she could run the obstacle course on Ajan Kloss a couple dozen times...and yet at the same time she’d never felt so safe and _at home_ in her entire life. 

When they finally broke apart she buried her face in the crook of his neck, too happy and flushed to bear his gaze.

“I love you, Ben,” she whispered, “ _so much._ Promise me you’ll never leave me…please.”

He gently lifted her head, smoothing her hair back from her face.

“I love _you_ ,” he murmured. “But I can’t promise you anything, Sweetheart. Not yet.”

Rey’s heart sank. “ _Ben_ …”

“Listen,” he whispered, holding her cheek firmly in his palm. “There’s a part of me that wants to run away with you and never have to face anybody ever again. But you heard that girl asking me about the Stormtroopers, about Crait, about my dad. I _have_ to answer for what I did, Rey—and I won’t be able to fight for the Resistance and bring down the First Order until I do. You have to let me do that. Promise me that no matter what happens—no matter what they do to me—you’ll let me answer for Kylo Ren.”

Rey dropped her gaze before he saw the tears springing to her eyes again. His heart beat strong, powerful, and quick under her palm. She didn’t want to lose him—not again. But then she thought of the admirals and generals who’d fought the First Order for so long…of Connix…of Jannah and Finn and Rose…of wonderful, crazy, cocksure Poe, who’d grown up with Ben Solo and been mercilessly tortured by Kylo Ren. They had every right to demand justice. If she detached herself from the situation entirely, she could even agree that they had every right to demand the head of the former Supreme Leader.

 _But how do you deal out justice_ and _take into account the…_ She struggled to remember the phrase he’d said Yoda had used. _The Grace of the Light? Why_ _would they send him back just to die on an executioner’s block? What are we_ supposed _to do with this chance, now that we’ve got it?_

Ben smirked. “ _Your thoughts are_ so _loud_.”

She blinked away her tears, trying to glare playfully at him. “ _Then stop eavesdropping.”_

_“I was finding that harder and harder to do by the time I found you on Kef Bir. You think it’s any easier now?”_

She giggled, but before she could reply Lando’s voice sounded over the _Falcon_ ’s crackling old intercom.

“Jumping out of lightspeed in five minutes, kiddos,” he warned—Rey suspected he meant the kiddos in the medbay _specifically_ —“and we’ll be landing in about ten. Just wanted to give you time to prepare yourselves.”

Ben, whose gaze had gone to the ceiling as soon as his father’s friend started talking, looked back at Rey. She blushed, cleared her throat, slid off his lap. When she held out her hand he took it and eased himself off the bed. He still favored one leg, but otherwise he didn’t seem to be in much pain. 

“All right,” she murmured. “I promise I’ll let you answer for Kylo Ren.”

He nodded. “Thank you…”

“But I’m not about to keep my mouth shut. You can plead guilty all day long. _I’m_ going to fight for _you_ —and I’m not going to stop until they all realize that your mother would do the _exact_ same thing if she were here.”

Ben’s broad shoulders slumped in a sigh. “You may be setting yourself up for a long battle, then.”

“I don’t care.” Rey clenched her hands, determination igniting in her eyes. “I’ve fought for Ben Solo _this_ long. I’m not about to stop now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*melts into a puddle-wuddle of self-induced feelings*) 
> 
> Three quick notes for this chapter:
> 
> 1) This isn't the first time I've written BB-8; my very first Star Wars story, written right after "The Force Awakens" came out, was all about his first meeting with Rey. It's on my Fanfiction.net account, but I'll share it on AO3 soon, as well! (Update: I just posted it! It's called "Safe and Sound"--hope y'all enjoy.) 
> 
> 2) Canonically, Ben is 10 years older than Rey. I don't know why, but this makes their relationship even more interesting to me. Maybe because they both have so much to teach each other, regardless of their age gap? 
> 
> 3) On a more technical note, I'm in the process of rewriting some of the upcoming chapters. I realized the other day that I was being rather self-indulgent with the fluff levels (*clears throat in embarrassment*), that I also may have been making things way too easy for my babes, and that things were moving far too slowly. So I'm reworking things and adding some more angst, whump, and Political Drama (TM). There will still be fluff, of course, but my intention was always to give Rey and Ben a realistic HEA and I'm *really* excited about where the story is going now! I just need a bit of extra time before I post Chapter 5--and by "extra time," I only mean about a week. My creativity is through the roof right now, so I'm not abandoning anything! And I really think the story will benefit from these tweaks and edits. 
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments--y'all are awesome!


	5. Darkness Rises

_“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier;_

_I have seen worse sights than this.”_

_―_ _Homer, “The Iliad”_

Back on Exegol, a frigid, foul-smelling wind scraped over the ruins of the Sith temple. The Final Order’s ships had either disintegrated in the planet’s atmosphere or pummeled its surface in fragments. Flames licked at the shapeless chunks of steel. A scream or two resounded in the planet’s endless night, only to quickly die away.

The Sith Acolytes—the fanatical followers of the undead Palpatine—had all perished or fled. What remained of the First Order’s fleet had barely escaped. Even the whispers, snarls, and thunder that constantly churned here seemed to have settled with the dust and debris of the recent battle.

Resistance scouts had already zipped over the planet and returned to their base with confirmation: no signs of life on Exegol. The First Order’s scouts had surreptiously done the same, slinking away in embarrassment and horror. 

But what neither realized was that they probably should’ve waited a few hours. 

The Dark Side of the Force, after all, was a pathway to many abilities considered unnatural.

A wordless, agonized cry split the eerie silence. With the groan of tortured steel a huge section of an Imperial Destroyer tilted off the ground; a lone survivor scrambled out from underneath it, his black cloak tattered, his strong, angular features scraped and scorched. As soon as he was free he staggered to his feet and looked around. His already-labored breathing quickened and his keen yellow eyes filled with horror as he took in the destruction of Palpatine’s long-perfected schemes.

“No,” he gasped. “No, no, no…”

He broke into a desperate run to the throne room. Palpatine’s life support system was empty. Frantically, the surviving Acolyte searched the dark, crumbling room. When his feet brushed something soft and moist, he swept aside his cloak and got down on one knee, feeling the ground with his bare hands.

He recoiled as soon as he realized what he was touching. _Flesh._ Raw, disintegrating _meat._

The Dark Side chose that moment to inform him of what he already knew.

_He’s dead. Your father is truly dead._

The Acolyte clenched his hand and sprang to his feet again, his eyes wild. He reached out, taking stock of his surroundings. _No Destroyers or Dreadnoughts left in the atmosphere…my ship destroyed…no other survivors…_

 _A TIE Whisper?_ He frowned, puzzled for a moment—and then it, too, dawned on him. Kylo Ren had come in that TIE Whisper…only the Acolyte and his brethren had known as soon as the young man stepped foot on Exegol that he was no longer Kylo Ren. Ben Solo had arrived, telegraphing his resolve to defeat Palpatine and help the Girl from one end of the planet to the other.

The Acolyte had laughed then, but he wasn’t laughing now. He ground his teeth and followed the Dark Side’s direction at a powerful, storming pace. As soon as he approached the Whisper he snapped his fingers; its hatch opened and he climbed in, unconcerned by the fact that he’d never piloted a ship of this kind before. He leaned into the power of the Darkness, and his hands flew over the controls with ease.

He also turned on the ship’s communicator. It was already set to a First Order frequency.

“Exegol to the First Order,” he called, the Whisper’s engines revving in the background. “Exegol to the First Order.”

A response came almost immediately. _“Supreme Leader?! Is that you?!”_

“This is…” The Acolyte hesitated a second, undecided between his two names—the one given to him at birth, or the one he preferred? He chose the latter. It usually had a more pronounced effect. “This is Darth Chrallous, Son of the Eternal Emperor. I’m on Exegol aboard the Supreme Leader’s ship. Give me your coordinates. I will report to your Commander-in-Chief.”

“ _I—I mean—I’m sorry, sir, but General Pryde is dead, sir. And no one’s sure where the Supreme Leader is. General Ava Cratt’s in command of the Fleet now—would you like me to inform her of your approach, sir?”_

The Acolyte didn’t even bother to smother his contempt as he gripped the ship’s control columns. “Certainly. You may also inform her that Kylo Ren has betrayed the First Order… _and_ the Sith. I will assume his position as Supreme Leader as soon as I confer with General Cratt.”

The soldier sounded like he might faint with shock. _“Y-y-yes, sir. Right away, sir. These are our coordinates. You’ve been cleared to approach, sir.”_

The Acolyte—Darth Chrallous—or Kass Palpatine, as he’d been known in his youth—severed the exchange without so much as a “thank you.” The Whisper lifted off the ground. He took one last look, his thoughts surging with memories: discovering the truth of his bloodline as a boy, secretly seeking out other acolytes like himself, locating his father’s (startlingly well-preserved) remains aboard the Death Star’s ruins…

And then bringing him back to life through ritual after bloody ritual.

Chrallous turned away from the receding view of Exegol with a long, steady sigh. That was all in the past now. The future— _his_ future—lay ahead, but not without yet another contingency plan birthed from the ever-vigilant, calculating mind of his father.

The Skywalker Line _would_ be obliterated…and the Girl would be the one to deal the final blow.

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ landed on Ajan Kloss in the middle of an uproarious celebration. The Resistance fleet had finally come home to roost, and it was far larger than it had been when it set out on its desperate mission to Exegol. Afternoon sun streamed from cloudless skies down into the jungle, bathing the victors in a happy glow.

Rey watched behind the captain’s seat while Lando and Chewie made the landing, the Skywalker lightsabers holstered in her belt. The lush green of Ajan Kloss had always elated her: not only was it heavenly to her color-starved eyes, but it had become _home._ Here she’d been trained by Leia, deepened her friendships with Poe, Finn, and Rose, and become confident in her role as the Last Jedi. 

But now, as Resistance fighters rushed towards her beloved _Falcon_ , her mouth went dry. She’d already spotted Poe in the jubilant crowd, and her heart leaped at the sight of him in one piece—but with Ben Solo standing behind her, still covered in the grime of Exegol, she had a feeling that the celebrations might not last much longer…and that Poe might not be so thrilled to see her once he realized who she’d brought along.

 _“Don’t be afraid_.” Ben’s thoughts wrapped around her like his arms had in the medbay. “ _Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”_

 _“So do I,”_ her thoughts retorted. Through the Bond she sensed him smile, but she felt something else, too, something entirely human, understandable, and yet—for him—unsettling.

_Anxiety. Fear._

_And fear…fear is what sent him tumbling into the Darkness…_

“All right, here we go,” Lando said, shutting off the engines with Chewie’s help. “You sure you want to come down with us, Kid?”

“I am,” Ben said quietly.

“Your call. All I ask is that you stay with Rey. They won’t fire on you if they risk hitting _her_.”

Ben only nodded. Rey squeezed his hand.

“Guys, they’re clamoring at the exit bay,” Finn called, swinging his head into the cockpit. “Is it okay if I open her up?”

“Go ahead,” Rey said, far steadier and more commanding that she felt. “We’re right behind you.”

Finn nodded, called out to Rose, Jannah, and the droids, and opened the _Falcon’s_ hatch. The gears creaked, the ship opened, the ramp extended. Lando and Chewie discreetly squeezed out of the cockpit, leaving Ben and Rey alone out of view from the ground. The cheering escalated outside. Anxiety chilled Ben’s side of the Bond.

“We should go,” Rey said. “They’ll start wondering if I don’t show up.”

Ben stared out the cockpit window. “These are my mother’s people. Her followers. People I’ve wanted to annihilate for so long—”

“But they were your friends for longer. And you were theirs.” She cupped his face in both hands. “Hey. _Look at me_. Remember who you are…and don’t forget who’s in your corner.”

He forced a smile. “The Last Jedi.”

“Not the last,” she retorted. “Not so long as you’re with me.”

With that she jumped up on tiptoe and pressed a quick, firm kiss to his lips. Then she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the cockpit, her blood pounding in her ears.

The warmth of Ajan Kloss and the deafening noise enveloped her as soon as she stepped outside. People were cheering, kissing, whooping, hugging, dancing, and passing around the drinks. BB-8 spun in circles around a laughing Poe. D-O hung close to Rose, but judging from his jerky motions, he was quite happy in his raucous surroundings. Only Finn looked uneasy as Rey and Ben reached the top of the ramp. She could tell from his forced grin that he was as nervous as a desert rat on a hot tin roof.

And then everything went very, _very_ still as everyone finally noticed the tall young man in black behind her.

Poe, squatting beside BB-8, sprang to his feet, his eyes wide and his mouth open. More worryingly—and much closer to the _Falcon—_ Lieutenant Connix’s sharp features had changed from shock to fury. Rey sensed Ben’s turbulent emotions shifting from fear to resolution.

 _“Stay with me_ , _Ben_. _No matter what happens, keep your thoughts on_ me _.”_

He didn’t even hesitate. “ _Always_.”

Rey took a step forward, bringing him with her. Connix whipped her pistol out.

“ _Stop!”_ Rey commanded, raising her free hand and summoning the Force to amplify her voice. It worked, but more than she expected: to her surprise (and slight terror), she sounded more like a queen. The Resistance fighters stared, stunned by the change in their young, cheerful Jedi. Connix didn’t lower her pistol, but tears of rage and confusion welled in her eyes.

“What,” she hissed, “is _he_ doing here?”

“He’s here under my protection and authority,” Rey replied, holding her gaze before looking out over the stunned crowd. “Emperor Palpatine is dead. I turned his own power back on him through the strength of the Jedi, but they’d be bringing back me dead and cold if it weren’t for Ben Solo.”

“Don’t you _dare_ call him that!” Connix cried, almost sobbing. “I know exactly who that is, and _she’s_ dead because of him! _Billions_ are dead because of _him—_ and you brought him back?! Force around us, Rey, why didn’t you kill him when you had the chance?!”

Judging by the murmurs, glares, and downward glances, the rest of the crowd was asking the same question. Before Rey could answer, Poe stepped close to Connix.

“Kaydel,” he murmured, laying a hand on her arm. “Kaydel, give me the gun.”

The lieutenant gritted her teeth, her finger quivering over the trigger. Rey tensed, ready to fling herself in front of Ben if she had to. But Poe slid his hand down to Connix’s wrist and pried her fingers loose. Connix shuddered and let her arms drop. Poe holstered the gun with a loud _snap_ , swept a warning glare over the crowd, and strode towards the _Falcon._

“Now,” he said, much louder now, “I hope someone’s gonna explain what’s going on.“

Rey released the breath she’d been holding. “Poe, I’m sorry—I knew you and Finn could get off Kef Bir with the _Falcon_ , but I had to—”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Poe hissed, his face inches from hers. “I want to know why you brought _him_ to Ajan Kloss, why you’re telling me you’d be dead without him, and why the _hell_ you’re holding his hand!”

Rey gulped and started to say something—but before she could, Ben released her hand. Poe took a step back and slapped his hand onto Connix’s pistol. Ben’s quiet expression never faltered. He loomed over Poe, but there was nothing threatening in his posture. In spite of the filth, the scrapes on his face, his torn sweater, and his dusty boots, he was just…serene.

 _At peace_.

“Rey will explain everything,” he said, his deep voice projecting over the silence. “But before you hear her story…” He held out his hands, cupped palms facing the sky. “I surrender—”

The fighters gasped sharply.

“—to the governing body of the Resistance…and I’ll accept whatever punishment they see fit for the crimes of Kylo Ren.”

Rey throbbed with pride, but as soon as he uttered that hated name, the place exploded _._ Surprise gave way to ferocity; cries of “ _Traitor”_ and “ _Butcher!”_ roared through the glade. Ben never flinched, but anxiety flickered across Poe’s face. He glanced at Rey; she nodded once, pleading and desperate. Finn, who’d wrestled his way back to the _Falcon_ as soon as Connix raised her pistol, dashed up the ramp and seized Poe’s arm. 

“It’s not a trick, Poe,” he insisted, shouting over the tumult. “Take him in. You won’t regret it.”

“And how am I supposed to be sure of that?!” Poe snapped, flinging a hand at Ben. “He’s Kylo kriffing Ren! What if he’s playin’ some kind of mind trick on all of us?”

“He’s _not._ Trust me—he’s changed, and you’re not gonna believe how it happened—but you’ve gotta get him outta here before these people tear him to pieces!”

Poe raked a hand through his unruly curls, looking as if he wished to the stars that Leia Organa hadn’t left him to deal with these high-spirited rebels alone. They really were growing angrier by the second. Rey had never sensed much Darkness on Ajan Kloss, but right now, right here, it was almost like being back on Exegol.

The realization left her cold.

“All right, all right!” Poe finally bellowed, struggling to be heard over the turmoil. The noise died down a bit. Poe inhaled, glared up at Ben. Rey could’ve sworn she heard her own heart pounding.

“Cuff him,” Poe snapped.

The rebels exploded again, this time in cheering. Several officers materialized around the _Falcon_ ramp, snapping metal cuffs around Ben’s wrists. Rey couldn’t bear it. She rushed to his side and seized his arm before they could drag him away. He looked at her, the look on his face still so quiet and brave and peaceful. His determination pulsated through the Bond.

“I love you,” Rey said, loud enough for Poe to hear.

Ben smiled faintly. “I love you, Rey.”

Then the soldiers ripped him away, leaving her at the foot of the ramp. The rebels— _her friends—_ shouted and jeered, hurling insults as the soldiers escorted him through the crowd towards the Base’s main building—and, she assumed, the brig.

She suddenly realized Poe was staring at her, his hands on his hips, his dark eyes glinting.

“Talk about a plot twist, Rey,” he muttered, coming close. “The story had better be good.”

“The best,” she whispered. “I promise.”

“Then the sooner you tell me, the better.” He whistled sharply, motioning for Finn and the rest of the _Falcon_ crew to gather round. “Everybody, to the Command Center… _now_.”


	6. The Fallout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Just wanted y'all to know before we get into this new chapter that I've made a *slight* change to this story's title and intent. This won't be an "Episode X" novel, after all; instead, I've just decided that my TROS fix-its will be a series of shorter, multi-chapter, interconnected stories about Rey, Ben, and the Resistance. Some may even be one-shots, depending on where my muse takes me. This particular one, which deals with Ben's redemption/reintegration into the Light Side, should conclude with a total of 13 chapters. But I've already started its sequel, and I'm so excited about it--so I think I'll be writing about Rey and Ben for quite a while yet! Shorter, self-contained plots are just easier for me to manage, especially since I'm hard at work on other, non-fanfic projects.
> 
> Enough of my babbling. Enjoy this chapter. And I apologize for the cliffhanger in advance.

_“Men’s evil deeds live in brass; their virtues we write in water.”_

_—William Shakespeare,_ Henry VIII, Act 4

Rey felt the horrified betrayal of her fellow rebels as she made her way to the Command Center. They’d seen her emerge from the _Falcon_ with Kylo Ren behind her—and not just behind her, but _holding his hand_. And the ones who’d been close enough had undoubtedly heard what she said to him before they dragged him away.

 _“I love you.”_ She sent the declaration through the Bond again and again, fast and pleading and insistent. _“I love you so much. I’m fighting for you. Don’t let anything they do or say to you make you forget that. I love you, and I’ll come see you as soon as I can…”_

She only received a sense of warm, tender reassurance in reply—but it was enough. She couldn’t sense where they were taking him or what they might be _doing_ to him, but the fact that he was able to project that kind of encouragement soothed her. She’d know if he was wrestling with darker, more dangerous thoughts.

Finn and Rose, thankfully, stayed on either side of her, shielding her from any comments or too-vicious glares with sharp, defiant looks of their own. Finn even kept one hand on Rey’s shoulder blade, propelling her forward at a quick pace. She was keenly aware of her battered appearance, and just as aware of Lando, Chewie, Jannah, and even BB-8 and D-O right behind her. There could be no doubt that she—and they—had a wild story to tell.

Still, as she entered the sterile chill of the Base Headquarters and hurried down the corridors to the Command Center where, just a few days ago, Leia Organa-Solo had reigned supreme, a shiver of fear ran down her spine. The Resistance’s leaders, too, hurried in, shutting the doors behind them to keep the outside turmoil at bay long enough for this important briefing.

 _Possibly the most important post-battle briefing this room is ever gonna see_ , Rey thought.

“All right,” Poe called out over the clipped chatter filling the room. He still had his pilot’s helmet under his arm, and Rey suddenly realized he looked very, very tired. “Never thought _this_ would be the first thing we’d be discussing after the biggest victory the Resistance has had in the past seven years, but here we are. I don’t even know where to start…”

“Then let _her_ start,” Maz Kanata cried, thrusting a small, wizened, orange hand in Rey’s direction. “And don’t make any snap judgments until you hear it from _her_ own lips, Flyboy!”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to keep from making snap judgments after _she_ takes His Royal Broodiness’ kriffing TIE fighter and leaves the rest of us high and dry on Kef Bir,” Poe snapped, dark eyes locking fiercely on Rey. Finn inhaled sharply and took a step forward, but Rey laid a hand on his arm and shook his head.

“Don’t, Finn,” she murmured. “He’s right. I was…I wasn’t really in my right mind when I did that. I am so, _so_ sorry, Poe. I should never have left you, but…I’d just found out something truly horrible about myself and I…I was so afraid that I would be putting you and Finn in danger…”

Poe tossed his helmet onto a nearby table. “What could you _possibly_ have learned about _yourself_ that would put the rest of us in danger? You’re a Jedi— _our_ Jedi—!”

“And I am also a Palpatine,” Rey snapped, “so where does _that_ fit in?”

Horrified gasps rippled through the commanding ranks of the Resistance. Poe’s mouth fell open; Commander D’Acy’s eyes widened; one of Leia’s other right-hand men, Commander Siren, almost dropped _his_ helmet. Connix clapped a hand over her mouth. Rey exhaled, held her head high…and brought a hand to rest on Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber.

“ _By blood_ , I am a Palpatine,” she said, her voice gaining strength and clarity. “But by choice— _my_ choice—I am a Skywalker. I _am_ a Jedi, and I _do_ serve the Light, no matter who my grandfather was or what he wanted me to do. You do _not_ have to be afraid of me, and I know now that I don’t have to be afraid of myself. The Jedi _are_ with me—they helped me destroy Palpatine once and for all—and the fact that we’re all here and the Final Order lies in ruins on Exegol should be proof enough of that.”

“You mean to tell me,” Poe said slowly, “that that _creep_ was biologically capable of—”

“Those are questions and stories for another time, Dameron,” Maz interrupted. “Tell us about the young man you brought home with you.”

Rey nodded, grateful (and not for the first time, either) for Maz’s unrelenting focus on the important things. She told the room what happened on Kef Bir—how she’d stabbed Kylo Ren and how they’d both sensed Leia’s death as soon as she did. As soon as she mentioned Leia’s passing, Rey noticed downcast eyes and even a few trembling lips. Her own grief hit her again, but she shoved it to the side; she’d have time to mourn later.

“I didn’t know then what that would do to Kylo Ren,” she admitted. “ _I_ went to Ach-To, believing I’d be better off in isolation than putting _you_ in danger through my association with Palpatine. But Luke Skywalker appeared to me, and told me I _had_ to face the Emperor. I was able to reach Exegol…and just as the Emperor threatened me with the worst possible fate…Ben Solo came for me.”

“Ben Solo,” a young woman—the exiled Queen Erienn of Crestir, Rey remembered—repeated slowly. “ _Not_ Kylo Ren?”

“No,” Rey said, unable to keep a soft smile off her face. “It was Ben Solo, through and through. I could feel it in the Force. We were able to fight Palpatine together until he…”

She hesitated, her mind racing over whether or not to mention how Palpatine had drained the power of the Dyad to regenerate himself. The Dyad was still so new to _her_. If she still barely understood it, would _they?_

“He drained _our_ life forces to energize himself,” she finally decided to say. _It’s not really a lie—in fact, it’s true from a certain point of view_. “He threw Ben down a chasm and left me for dead…but the Jedi came to me and gave me the strength to defeat him once and for all.”

“So Palpatine is gone?” Poe demanded. “Gone for good?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Rey said firmly. “I don’t know about his followers, though. They were there, too, but I’m still not sure if they were _physically_ there. We may have still have plenty of Sith acolytes to deal with.”

“Well, we still have what remains of the First Order to deal with, too, so what’s a few more Sith-lords?” Poe deadpanned. “So you defeated Palpatine, and then you two lovebirds hopped aboard the _Falcon_?”

Rey bristled at his sarcasm, but tamped down on it quickly. “No. I died.”

The room went absolutely silent. Even BB-8’s soft whirring at her feet died down.

“I died,” Rey murmured, “and Ben Solo brought me back to life. And then _he_ died…”

“Dead as a doornail,” Finn offered behind her.

“…and the Jedi brought him back,” Rey finished. “Kylo Ren is dead, but Ben Solo is alive. He is _so_ alive. They wouldn’t have brought him back if he wasn’t worthy of a second chance! _This_ is how we win! By him turning to the Light and giving us more information about the First Order than the Resistance has _ever_ had, we can shift the tide of the _entire_ war—”

“That’s all very well and good,” Commander D’Acy snapped, “but Ben Solo made the choice to become Kylo Ren. He’s got the blood of _millions_ on his hands, including the blood of his own father. _You_ may be willing to shove all that under the rug, Master Rey, but _I_ am not.”

“I’m _not_ shoving it under the rug, Commander,” Rey shot back fiercely. “I agree with you—wholeheartedly—that he must answer for Kylo Ren. It would be cruel to deny the Galaxy justice! I know how much we have all suffered and I’m not asking anyone to simply forgive and forget!”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ here,” Poe grumbled.

Rey looked at him, hard and stern. “Yes, there’s a ‘but’ here, because we are the _Resistance_. We uphold justice, yes—but we also believe in freedom, and goodness, and _redemption!_ How many of us here have done things we aren’t proud of? How many of you left the First Order after finally realizing it stood for all that was cruel and evil in the Galaxy? How many of us have criminal backgrounds? How many of us came from…from _nothing…_ and were _finally_ given a chance to become heroes in our own right?”

A few gazes dropped to the floor; a few of the rebels shuffled uncomfortably. Poe’s defensive stance relaxed…a little. Maz’s eyes shone behind her oversized glasses.

“I’m not asking you to forget what Kylo Ren did,” Rey said, softening her tone. “His own mother wouldn’t have asked you to.”

Poe looked up at that. She met his gaze steadily, hopefully…gently.

“But I think Leia would’ve also asked you to hear _his_ story,” she continued. “Ben Solo’s turn to the Darkness didn’t happen in a vacuum anymore than his turn back to the Light did. She would’ve wanted you to ask why he would’ve risked everything to help us defeat Palpatine…and she would’ve _begged_ you to consider why she and Luke and the rest of the Jedi would’ve sent him back from the dead just so he could die again!”

“He _has_ to be punished,” Commander D’Acy hissed through her teeth.

“But not by execution,” Lando cut in, assuming a position next to Rey. “The boy is more valuable to you alive than dead. He’s got more insight into the inner workings of the First Order than you’d ever get from any spy. He could also be a rallying point for anyone who’s been too afraid to turn against them. Shape the narrative, D’Acy. Stop seeing him for just a second as Kylo Ren, and think about how _the son of Leia Organa_ could turn the tide for us.”

D’Acy said nothing, but the twitch under her eye told Rey that maybe—just maybe—the words had gone home. Poe rubbed his upper lip with his thumb.

“Okay,” he said, the word a long and heavy sigh. “Okay…we’ll take him in. I don’t want a _word_ of this getting off Ajan Kloss until we’ve figured out how and when and where we’re gonna try him, and I definitely don’t want him wandering around unless he’s under heavy guard…or with Rey.”

She shot him a surprised, hopeful look. He glanced away.

“Commander D’Acy,” he said, “get together with some of our more politically-astute comrades and figure out how to plan a trial and set up a military tribunal. Your Majesty—” this was directed towards Queen Erienn “—you can help her with that. Commander Siren, put the Base on information lockdown for the next forty-eight hours. No mention of Kylo Ren or Ben Solo gets off this moon until I’ve approved it first.”

“Yes, sir,” Commander Siren said.

“And Rey…” Poe turned to her again, and her heart swelled in relief at the _much_ gentler look in his dark eyes. “Sorry about…y’know.”

Rey smiled weakly. “I’m sorry, too. If there’s—”

But a sudden clap of thunder in her own head cut her off. She gasped, staggered. Finn and Rose both caught her. Poe unfolded his arms and rushed towards her, alarm flashing across his face.

“Rey!” Rose cried. “What is it?”

Rey felt it again—another blow, loud as thunder, and a searing wave of pain. But this time it was followed by the slamming of a door. Not a physical door…but a mental, emotional one.

The only other time she’d felt that, _she_ had been the one to slam the door. On Crait…when she saw Ben Solo gazing up at her, pleadingly, through the eyes of a kneeling Kylo Ren…

“Where is he?” she gasped. “Where did they take him?!”

Poe blinked, terror building in his eyes. “I-I told them to put him in the brig—”

Rey didn’t wait for anymore information: she took off running, Finn, Rose, Poe, and Lando pounding after her.

 _“Ben, I’m coming! What’s wrong?! OPEN THE DOOR, BEN, PLEASE!”_

* * *

Ben had kept his eyes fixed straight ahead while his guards escorted him to the brig. Making eye contact with any of the rebels they passed, he figured, would either intimidate or infuriate. Better to maintain a stony expression for now. He was good at that; he’d had seven years to practice keeping the emotion out of his face.

It was harder now, though. The muscles in his face kept relaxing every time he refocused his thoughts on Rey. _Her smile, her eyes, those dimples in her cheeks, the freckles on her nose, her hair, her kiss…_

A new wave of peace washed over him as he remembered the way she’d nuzzled her head under his chin and murmured her love for him in the _Falcon_ medbay. He didn’t deserve her love—he knew that quite well—but he had every ounce of it, and she most certainly claimed all of his.

 _Let me be worthy of her,_ he prayed as the guards led him down a corridor so narrow, it didn’t even allow three men to walk abreast (especially with one of them being as tall and broad-shouldered as him). _Whatever happens, let me be worthy of Rey._

It was almost funny: here he was, a Prince by right and by blood of New Alderaan and Naboo, _and_ the former Supreme Leader of the mightiest regime since the Galactic Empire—and he was absolutely unworthy of this feisty, twenty-year-old scavenger from Jakku.

 _Not just a scavenger_ , he reminded himself as the guards scraped open a cell door. _A Jedi. The Last Jedi. A girl who could’ve claimed the title of “Empress Palpatine,” if she’d wanted it._

 _But she didn’t. She just wanted_ you _._

The guards shoved him into the cell; Ben drew on just enough of the Force to keep himself from stumbling on his sore leg. The door closed behind him with a resounding clang. The cell had no windows, and it was lit by a single bulb in a ceiling he could touch merely by lifting his hand a few inches above his head. A frail-looking cot stood against one wall, and there was an empty metal bucket in one corner. Ben lifted an eyebrow.

_Resistance facilities. Not exactly state-of-the-art._

The sneering thought sounded disturbingly like his old self; with a shudder, he pushed it away and sank to a seat on the cot. Slowly, he lifted the hem of his tattered sweater. Rey had knitted his ribs back together aboard the _Falcon_ when he first came to, but the black-and-blue bruising across his side still looked ferocious. His leg throbbed, too—partially healed, as well, but not completely.

Hissing between his teeth, he laid his palm against his thigh. No matter what tomorrow might bring— _or maybe even tonight, depending on what happens between Rey and Dameron—_ he ought to at least be able to walk properly. Warm, soothing energy flowed into his leg, mending the remaining fractures and torn muscles. When he was done, he thought about channeling the same power into his torso.

But his hands shook and his head swam, reminding him too much of those last few moments before he lost consciousness on Exegol. Drawing an unsteady breath, Ben stretched himself out on the cot, closed his eyes, and let the weariness wash over him…

Until voices—loud, furious voices—dragged him out of his all-too-short nap.

“Where is he?! _Where is he?!”_

 _“_ Sir, we can’t let you in—General Dameron’s ord—”

But the nervous guard’s voice was cut off with a cry. Ben sat up as fast as he could, wrapping one arm around his throbbing side. The commotion was getting louder outside. He stood, his heartbeat quickening, his free hand instinctively tightening into a vicious fist…

_NO! No matter what comes through that door, you will NOT wield the Darkness!_

He gritted his teeth, loosened his fingers, and flung his head back as the cell door suddenly burst open. At the sight of his visitor, fear stabbed through him: the man was so tall, his head barely cleared the already-low ceiling, and his bare arms rippled with muscles. _A miner_ , Ben guessed, _or some other kind of heavy laborer._ The remaining guards tried to drag the man backwards, but he flung them away like rag dolls.

“ _Butcher!”_ the man roared, his face contorting with grief and rage. “My wife and daughter were on Jakku…when _you_ came looking for Lor San Tekka! You _killed_ them!”

Ben didn’t even realize he was backing up until his shoulders hit the wall. He glanced down, saw the heavy metal tool gripped in the man’s hand. His stomach turned over, but he held his head up, and forced himself to look the man in the eye.

“You don’t even know who I’m talking about,” the man choked, tears rolling down his reddened face. “You wiped out that entire village…but they were just nameless obstacles to you. You’ve killed so many people since then, you probably don’t even remember it.”

Agony radiated through Ben’s heart and mind, leaving him breathless. And it wasn’t just the man’s grief that he felt, either. It was like the scar tissue, built up over his conscience for the last seven years, had peeled away, leaving him bleeding and raw and _screaming_ inside.

“I remember it,” he heard himself say, his voice low and rasping. “I remember all of it…”

Before he could say anything else, the man clenched his teeth and let out a horrible, wordless cry. The next thing Ben knew, he’d been yanked away from the wall by the hair, the metal tool slammed into his gut. Guards bellowed frantic orders, scrambling into the room, trying to get the man away—but the weapon struck again and Ben went down on his knees, wheezing and coughing.

“MURDERER!” the man screamed. “You’re gonna _pay_ for what you’ve done!”

“ _Ben?! Ben, what’s wrong?!”_

Rey’s panic thundered across the Bond; Ben slammed her out just as the man kicked him, hurling him into the wall. The room echoed with orders to cease and desist, followed by cries for help—but none of it seemed to be working. Ben heaved, only vaguely aware of the man yanking him to his feet. The hot, coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. He couldn’t tell if it came from his nose or if it was coming up his throat.

 _Choke him_ , the cold, toneless voice of Kylo Ren ordered in the back of his head. _You don’t have to put up with this. Crush his windpipe now. Put him out of his misery—_

 _NO!_ Ben thrust aside the temptation with a groan and fixed his mind instead on a girl dressed in white, her hazel eyes full of love and compassion, her hair streaming down her back in a dark, tousled curtain. A strong, pure Light blazed behind her, and he was pretty sure she was calling his name.

But then the man slammed his fist into his head, and he knew no more. 


	7. Mine

_“I hope that you see right through my walls_

_I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling_

_I'll never let a love get so close_

_You put your arms around me and I'm home”_

_—Christina Perri, “Arms”_

Rey pounded down the corridors, following the bloodcurdling screams and cries for assistance and backup. She pushed against the closed Bond to no avail. Whatever was happening to Ben, he either didn’t want her to see it…or he wasn’t even conscious anymore.

 _Maybe both_ , Rey realized. _Oh please, please be with him, Leia! Please keep him safe…keep him_ alive, _PLEASE!_

As soon as the panicking soldiers saw her coming they jerked out of the way, allowing her and her friends to plunge through the growing crowd. Rey barely registered a few nervous cries of, “Careful, Master Rey!”

She hardly heard, either, Poe’s furious scolding: “How the _hell_ did this happen?! Since when do we tolerate prisoners being attacked in their own cells?! What is this, a First Order interrogation room?!”

She couldn’t hear any of it because at the sight of an enormous man bringing the biggest wrench she had ever seen down on Ben Solo’s prone form, she knew nothing but the roar of her pulse and the throbbing energy of the Force.

“ _STOP!”_ Rey screamed, throwing out her hand.

The man froze, his tool inches from Ben’s skull. His bulging muscles quivered in his uncomfortable, hunched position. Rey gritted her teeth, compelling him to keep his fingers around the wrench so it wouldn’t tumble down on Ben—then hurled both man and weapon into the opposite wall. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but Rey positioned herself directly in front of him and flicked on Leia Organa’s lightsaber.

The man froze again—not from the Force, but out of his own shock and terror—as the blade shimmered mere inches from his face.

“I will _kill_ you if you touch him again!” Rey shouted.

The man swallowed, tried to point at Ben. “He—”

Rey took a step closer; the lightsaber nearly took off the man’s nose. He backed into the wall with a crash.

“I know exactly what he did,” she snapped, “and I know why you’re angry. But he is under _my_ protection—and the next time anyone so much as lays a finger on him, I’ll teach them a lesson they won’t forget! Now _get…out_.”

Thankfully, before the man could decide whether or not to obey her, Poe issued a sharp command: soldiers, no longer so hesitant now that their resident Jedi was present, plunged into the room and dragged him away. Rey held his gaze until he was gone, not even allowing him a parting glance at Ben.

As soon as he was on the other side of that door, however, she whirled. She tossed the lightsaber on the cot and threw herself down on her knees beside Ben.

“Ben,” she whispered, pushing his hair back from his bloodied face. “Ben, wake up—talk to me—”

His eyelids fluttered and he coughed weakly. “Awake…I’m awake…”

Rey looked over her shoulder; Finn and Rose stood close by, tensely waiting to help. “We need to get him to the medbay.”

Without hesitation, they rushed forward and helped her get Ben upright. When he cried out in agony, tears sprang to her eyes. So did a memory, sharp and bone-chilling, of a snowy forest, blood, and steam…and the satisfying fury of hearing him scream in pain as she sliced Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber up and across his chest and face…

“It’s okay,” she whispered, positioning herself against his side, one of his arms leaning heavily across her shoulders. “I’ve got you…you’re safe, I promise…”

She could tell he had his teeth clenched, but whether it was because he was trying not to scream or trying not to vomit, she didn’t know. Finn, supporting him on the other side, shot her a worried look. She understood it. She understood it all too well.

She couldn’t really promise Ben Solo safety. Not yet…not while people still saw him as a monster.

* * *

Three hours and one long, scalding shower later, Rey curled up in a chair beside Ben’s med-bed, hugging her knees and chewing her thumbnail. Ben half-sat, half-lay in the bed, his chest rising and falling in a drugged sleep. One side of his face had already turned an sickening mix of crimson and purple. A bacta-cast encircled his torso, healing the ribs newly-broken by his attacker’s blows.

She would’ve healed him herself if she’d had the energy, but she was so exhausted, she was afraid she might exert herself too far. She couldn’t afford the risk, not if he wasn’t here to pull her back from the brink again.

They were finally alone, though. The medics had slipped away; so had Finn and Rose. She had no idea where Poe had gone. Lando and Chewie had stayed the longest. Rey hadn’t missed the upswell of love and concern in Lando’s eyes as he ran his hand over Ben’s dark hair, nor Chewie’s lingering study of Ben’s bruised and cut-up face.

They were the last people alive who’d truly known him since babyhood. As deeply as she knew him through the Bond—as much as she _felt_ as if she’d known him all her life—she couldn’t even imagine the pain his two “uncles” must be feeling.

Ben groaned in his sleep. She sat up, laying her hand over his. 

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Either he heard her or sensed her through the Bond: his breathing steadied. Rey sighed in relief, stole one last wary glance around the room…and slowly crawled into the bed beside him.

The mattress was so, so soft. She needed sleep, and Ben needed her…so she tucked the blankets around herself and rested her head in the slight dip between his shoulder and his chest. He didn’t stir. With a sleepy smile Rey tucked a hand under her cheek, closed her eyes—

And Palpatine’s evil cackle echoed in her head, just like it had when she tried to sleep on the _Falcon_.

She jerked her head up with a gasp, tears prickling her eyes. He’d never get out of her head now, would he? She’d be plagued by his memory for the rest of her life…by his taunting voice, telling her he was all the family she had…

Someone knocked on the door. Rey threw off the blankets and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, blinking away her tears. “Come in.”

The door opened and Poe stuck his head in. “Hey. Just wanted to check in on you.”

Rey sniffled and rubbed her arms. Poe stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. For a moment he just stood there, gripping the end of the bed. Since Rey refused to look at him, she wasn’t sure whether he was staring at her or at Ben.

“Why are you angry?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Rey mumbled. “Maybe because I just assumed _your men_ would’ve recognized the importance of keeping a valuable prisoner alive?”

“Now that’s not fair, and you know it. Even if every man and woman on this base believed this guy was pure as the wind-driven snow, there would’ve been no holding back a man like Zundas. Dude’s _gotta_ be three hundred pounds worth of muscle! There’s a reason General Organa put _him_ in charge of building this base from the ground-up!”

Rey shivered, hung her head. “I know, I know. It’s just...It’s been a day.”

“Yeah,” Poe murmured. “I know.”

Rey sniffled again and felt a faint question from the Bond; she reached behind her to stroke Ben’s hand, and once again he settled. Poe sank into the chair she’d vacated. From her perch on the bed, she sat a few inches higher than him; he had to look up at her as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

“Look,” he whispered. “You…you are _amazing_ , Rey. I’ve never known a girl like you. You remind me of Leia, only…in a way, you’re even stronger than she was—or maybe you’re _going_ to be. There’s just something about you that makes me want to follow you into whatever adventure you decide to take, moving forward.”

Rey frowned. Poe sighed, reaching for her free hand. She gave it to him without hesitation.

“I really am sorry about Kef Bir,” she whispered. “If I could go back and change _anything—”_

 _“_ Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. It is what it is, and it turned out all right. What I was tryin’ to say is…if you’re telling me that Kylo Ren, Ben Solo—whatever you wanna call him now—has turned good, it’s really, _really_ hard to argue with you. You understand and perceive things that would go way over my head…and I reckon even Leia would tell you that I’ve sometimes got more skull than brains.”

Rey laughed weakly. Poe smiled and cupped her hand in both of his.

“I trust you, Rey. I don’t understand it, and Force knows I’m not about to forget what he did. But I know you, and I knew Leia…and I know she never gave up on him. If you’ve brought him back and he’s really willing to help us take down the First Order once and for all…then I guess I’ll vote for sparing his life.”

Rey’s chin quivered. “Thank you, Poe. _Thank you_.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting to Ben. A strange look crept into his face and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

“You love him, don’t you?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Rey dropped her gaze. She still didn’t know how much to tell him about the Dyad, yet she knew Poe needed _some_ indication of what Ben meant to her. He deserved it.

“Because…” she managed to choke out, “…because he’s everything I’ve always waited for.”

To her relief, Poe didn’t press her. He simply nodded, gave her hand a squeeze, and headed for the door at a pensive, meandering pace.

“By the way,” he said, spinning on the ball of his foot, “Leia is gone. Apparently, her body vanished into thin air right before we all made it back to Base.”

Rey raised her eyebrows. “Just when Ben came back to life, then.”

“Well, I don’t know about all that—but that’s what Maz told me. We’ll be having a memorial service for her and the rest of our fallen tomorrow. You’ll be there?”

“Of course.” Rey forced a tired smile. “And thank you again, Poe. For everything.”

He smiled back. “No problem…Rey Skywalker.”

Her eyes widened. Poe smirked.

“Well, you did say you were a Skywalker by choice, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Y-yes…”

“Then that’s settled. You’re Master Skywalker from here on out.” His roguish grin softened. “Leia would’ve been proud.”

Rey’s throat tightened, but she managed to nod her thanks. Poe sent her a parting wink and slipped out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, she turned back to Ben. His eyes were still shut, but something about the Bond felt different. She rubbed his hand with her thumb.

“I know you’re awake,” she whispered.

His eyelids cracked open. Rey drew her legs up onto the bed again and moved closer to him. He swallowed with difficulty.

“Where…where am I?”

“Medbay. Your ribs are broken again.”

His breathing quickened, his muscles tensing with pain or fear—she couldn’t tell which. Rey leaned closer, stroking his hair back from his forehead.

“Shh…shh. It’s all right. I’m here, and I’m not leaving you. I promise.”

He turned his battered face away from her. “Should’ve known. Should’ve…seen it coming…”

“Hey.” She laid a hand against his cheek, forcing her to look at her. “ _You_ didn’t lash out, _I_ got the chance to fight for you, _and_ Poe is on our side. We’re already making a great team, Ben. Don’t give up hope yet.”

He gazed up at her through bleary, swollen, half-open eyes. When he lifted one bandaged hand and brushed her jawline with the backs of his fingers, Rey shivered and let her own eyelids flutter shut.

“Sleep,” he rasped. “You’re…so tired…”

She shook her head. “I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, I hear him in my head—”

“Try. Please.”

He moved his arm to the side with an effort. Moving carefully so she wouldn’t jostle him, Rey lay down and rested her head on his bare shoulder; Ben shut his eyes, wrapping his arm around her. Every bone and muscle sang in relief and a warm rush filled her insides at the realization that she’d never been _this_ close to him…this… _intimate…_

And the cackling started again. Her eyes flew open—but before she could bolt upright, she felt Ben’s hand on her head, holding her close. When she tilted her head back, she saw his eyes were still closed. But the new, focused quiet in his own mind now flowed into hers.

So did his defiance, strong and stern in spite of his physical pain and the stupifying medicine.

_“Get out of her head! You tormented me for years. I won’t let you do the same to her!”_

The medbay room was bright enough, but the coiling, hissing Darkness engulfed them from an unseen plane. Rey closed her eyes with a shudder and pressed her face against Ben’s chest. As soon as she did, she envisioned him standing at her side, gripping her hand and wielding a blue lightsaber. Terrible yellow eyes glowed at them from the Dark, full of hatred, greed, and cruel amusement.

 _Grandfather_. Rey felt sick to her stomach. But Ben never faltered. He took a step forward, bringing her with him, and aimed the point of the lightsaber at the Enemy. 

“ _She’s_ mine,” she heard him growl. _“She belongs to me and the Light, and you will_ never _have her.”_

Palpatine’s laughter turned into a wet, guttural snarl. Rey’s skin crawled—until she realized she, too, held something heavy and cold. She glanced down. It was the other Skywalker lightsaber, unlit, just waiting…

Without hesitation, she switched it on. Ben glanced at her. Rey raised her eyebrows and nodded.

That was all he needed. A radiant smile split his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. Together they raised the lightsabers high above their heads.

As soon as the two blades touched points, the explosion of light blasted away the Darkness. The horrible eyes vanished with an unearthly shriek. A pure, cold wind nearly knocked her off her feet.

Back in the medbay, however, curled against Ben Solo’s side, Rey sighed in relief. He relaxed, too, his hand falling limp onto her shoulder.

Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.

* * *

Millions of light-years away, the First Order Dreadnought _Dauntless_ maintained its menacing orbit around Coruscant. The glittering planet, once the center of the Galactic Empire, was just a shadow of its former self these days. The First Order always preferred more industrialized cities like Crestir, and the people of Coruscant hadn’t taken kindly to the slight—hence the _Dauntless_ ’ presence.

But even the _Dauntless_ was supposed to have departed yesterday morning. General Enric Pryde himself had set out for Exegol, intending to rendezvous with the resurrected Emperor Palpatine. The Emperor’s massive, otherworldly fleet would give the First Order the final advantage they needed over an increasingly defiant Galaxy. The crew of the _Dauntless_ had waited impatiently for their own summons—none more so than General Ava Cratt.

Now, nearly twenty-four hours later, Cratt marched to the _Dauntless’_ hangar with three of her subordinate officers on her heels. Her sharp, almost masculine features may have been cold as steel, but her insides were doing all sorts of strange things. Her heart, especially, felt like it might pound right out of her rib cage at any moment.

It was _embarrassing_. Her parents had been high-ranking officials of the Galactic Empire, _and_ she’d occupied the third-highest position in the entire First Order for the past four years. This nervousness was beneath her.

 _And yet I’m about to meet a man who claims to be Palpatine’s son—and possibly the only survivor of Exegol. I think I’m entitled to a little anxiety_.

She took the opportunity to straighten her peaked black cap before rounding the last corner and striding into the hangar deck. The Supreme Leader’s TIE Whisper had just landed. The black-clad figure climbing out of it wasn’t quite as broad as its original owner, but Cratt could tell that he was at least as tall and much more nimble.

What she did _not_ expect was for him to be so striking. As he flung aside his cloak’s hood she took note of his long, sharp features, barely softened by a head full of thick brown hair. Far more unsettling were his eyes. They were an unnatural golden color—almost reptilian.

It only confirmed what her trembling communications officer had told her: the man was a Sith-lord—just like the old stories said. 

“Are you in charge here?” he demanded.

She drew herself up to her full height. “I am. General Ava Cratt, currently in command of the First Order Fleet until such time as—”

“Own it,” the man said quietly. “Pryde is dead, and so is Armitage Hux. You _are_ in full command of the Fleet, General.”

She blinked, a little surprised; no one else had seemed so confident in her right to succession. But she refused to let it go to her head; she intended to test him first.

“Who died and made you Supreme Leader?” she demanded.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you _really_ asking me that after a certain piece of information I sent to you?”

Cratt raised her own eyebrow in reply. “My communications officer informed me that _you_ claimed Kylo Ren has defected to the Resistance—but we’ve received no other tidings to that effect. In fact…” She gestured towards the TIE Whisper. “If he was on Exegol, he likely perished in the same battle that took Pryde, Hux, and the entirety of your Emperor’s ‘Final Order.’ What I’m really wondering is how _you_ survived.”

The newcomer’s jaw flexed. “Is that _contempt_ I hear in your voice, General?”

“The First Order is unaccustomed to failure,” Cratt snapped. “We were gaining ground—we at least had the majority of the Galaxy under our thumb—until the Emperor decided to barge in and turn everyone’s head with promises of utlimate victory! And now we’ve suffered the greatest defeat in our entire history. So yes, perhaps I _am_ contemptuous. I don’t believe your claim that the Supreme Leader would’ve left us high and dry—and I _certainly_ don’t believe that you are the son of Palpatine. The Emperor left no heir. The very idea is an absurdity and a mockery of his legacy!”

Her voice had risen to a shout, the anger, confusion, and horror of the past twenty-four hours spilling out of her like a flood. The newcomer glared at her for one tense, silent moment. When he stepped closer she stared him down, too furious and grief-stricken for her lost comrades and magnificent ships to flinch.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flick his wrist. Her three subordinates, waiting breathlessly behind her, flew backwards with startled cries. Cratt and the Sith-lord now stood alone in the middle of the deck. Her blood thundered in her ears, yet she refused to withdraw her infuriated gaze.

“You’re a fierce one,” he murmured. “Your only failing is your blind loyalty.”

Cratt ground her teeth, then gasped as he raised his hand close to her head. All of a sudden, images—terrible, blood-curdling memories—flooded her mind:

_A boy in a library, poring over ancient, forbidden books full of seething spells and outlawed symbols._

_Sith Acolytes gathered around an altar, murmuring incantations over a corpse, spilling their own blood to give it life._

_The temple, thundering with a hundred-thousand voices._

_A spectral figure on a throne, calculating the destinies of millions._

_The First and Final Orders, crumbling beneath the assault of rebel scum._

_A tall young man in black wielding a blue lightsaber, defiance on his all-too-familiar face._

_A slender girl beside him all dressed in white, radiant and fierce, gripping his saber’s twin._

Cratt shuddered, the loss and betrayal consuming her. Now she understood everything this man had seen. The Supreme Leader _had_ turned his back on everything she and the First Order stood for. He’d gone home, returned to his mother’s filthy Resistance…and with none other than the Jedi-girl who’d murdered Snoke on his own throne.

 _“No,”_ she heard the Sith-lord whisper into her mind. _“The Girl didn’t kill Snoke. Not alone.”_

“Kylo Ren,” Cratt breathed.

“ _Ben Solo now._ He _killed Snoke and let the Girl take the blame—though something tells me he’d rather die now than allow anyone to look at her in a way he didn’t like. And they’re both responsible for the death of my father. Yes, yes, I know…you think it strange that Darth Sidious should’ve had a son._ I’m _telling you he had two. The Girl is the offpsring of my treacherous brother…and I’d rather obliterate myself than watch her and the grandson of Darth Vader establish a new Jedi Order and spawn another Skywalker.”_

Cratt’s chest burned with rage. The Sith-lord lowered his hand, releasing her from his hold over her mind. She relaxed with a teeth-chattering sigh; her legs felt like jelly.

“So,” he said, aloud this time, “are you ready to make them pay for what they’ve done?”

Cratt blinked hard, swallowed harder, and tossed her short black bob of hair in a valiant attempt to regain her haughty composure. “More than ready. What would you have me do?”

“Prepare an attack party. We’ll punish the Resistance for Exegol, kill Ben Solo, and capture the Girl in one fell swoop.”

“But we don’t even know where the Resistance base _is!”_ Cratt protested. _“_ Wherever they are, they’ve either managed to shield or disguise the place! We’ve found no trace of them in a year!”

“That is because you didn’t have Darth Chrallous on your side.” He started to walk past her, then stopped, raised an index finger. “But whatever happens, that Girl is _mine_. I want her alive and unharmed. She wields more power than you know.”

Cratt nodded mechanically. “As you wish…Darth Chrallous.”

He flashed another smile, all teeth and glinting eyes. “ ‘Emperor,’ if you please, General.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe has way more respect for Rey and her wisdom/abilities than people give him credit for. I'm just sayin'.


	8. Everything We Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: insane levels of tooth-rotting fluff ahead. More plot next week, but for now...FLUFF. (*throws confetti*)
> 
> (By the way, who else nearly died from Feelings over those leaked excerpts of the TROS novelization? I fully intend to snuggle up on the couch with a blanket and a cuppa tea when my pre-ordered copy arrives.)

_“Cross my heart and hope to die_

_Taking this one step at a time_

_I got your back if you got mine_

_One foot in front of the other”_

_—Walk the Moon, “One Foot”_

Ben woke to the rhythmic beeping of a medical monitor, the hum of the air ventilation system, a dead weight on his shoulder…and the unmistakable sound of someone snoring. With a start he raised his head off the pillow, one hand instinctively curling in a defensive fist and his other arm tightening around Rey.

Almost immediately, however, he relaxed. He was still in the medbay on Ajan Kloss. There were no soldiers at the door keeping watch over him, and he wasn’t restrained in any way. No cuffs, no straps. Even the drugs they’d used to coax him to sleep last night had worn off. He knew that the second he reached out with the Force and sensed that there was, in fact, a guard _outside_ of the room.

 _Well, that’s better than inside_ , he thought, leaning back against the pillows again. The idea of a stranger watching him while he slept was unsettling. After years of hiding behind the mask of Kylo Ren, he’d have to get used to people looking at his face on a regular basis. He’d just rather they did it when he was capable of looking back.

And he certainly didn’t want them watching Rey when he couldn’t keep an eye on _them_. 

Carefully, so he wouldn’t disturb her, he leaned forward again. She was sound asleep, curled up against him with one hand splayed over his heart. Her hair tumbled down her back in a tousled brown mess; her cheeks were pink, and she _was_ snoring. Ben smiled, lifting his bandaged arm just enough so he could stroke her hair. She pursed her lips, drew a long, deep breath, and stretched.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Rey rubbed her nose and buried her face in his chest. “Five more minutes…”

The whole thing was so endearingly normal, he almost laughed out loud. When _was_ the last time he’d thrown back his head and really, truly laughed, anyway? He must’ve been a teenager, playing with some of his uncle’s other padawans—those who either hadn’t teased him mercilessly or cowered away from him, intimidated by his burgeoning power and intensity. _Those_ padawans had been few and far between.

_I wonder what happened to them. I hope they didn’t—_

He shuddered, remembering the flames, the lightning, the paralyzing horror, and the brutal accusations from his uncle that had followed. Resentment, pain, and guilt reared their ugly heads; the contentment he’d felt just seconds ago started to lose its strength.

“Please don’t, Ben,” Rey murmured. “Don’t go that way.”

He snapped out of the memories with a shaky exhale and looked at her. He thought at first she was dreaming, but a quick check of the Bond told him she was quite awake and very much aware of what was going through his head. He clasped her hand and lifted it to his lips.

“Whatever you say, Princess,” he whispered. _“Because you’re_ my _Princess. No one else’s.”_

Rey smiled, her eyes fluttering open. It took his breath away. He could get used to watching her wake up like this every morning…

“Ben!” she cried, scrambling upright. “Your _face_!”

He grimaced. “Please, let’s not talk about my face…”

“But it’s hardly bruised!”

He stopped short. Rey laughed in disbelief, resting her palm against his cheek. Come to think of it, it _didn’t_ feel as stiff and swollen as it had last night.

“Your face is healed, too,” he murmured.

She touched her forehead, running her fingers over the spot where, last night, a knot had formed beneath an angry-looking scrape. The battered skin had mended completely. She checked her arms and hands, too, but every cut, scratch, and bruise from their battle on Exegol had vanished. Even Ben felt only a manageable ache beneath the bacta-cast as he sat up, pressing a hand to his side.

“Do you think we’ve been healing each other in the night?” Rey whispered.

“Maybe,” Ben replied with a careful stretch. “There’s a lot about being one half of a Dyad that I don’t understand yet. But there’s one thing I do know…”

“What?”

“Dameron and his people will want to see me the second they know I’m awake and functioning.”

“Well, they’re not seeing you without _me_ present. And you’re not seeing _anybody_ until you’ve eaten.”

“But—”

“Shush.” Rey clamped her hand over his mouth. “Nobody’s taken care of you in far too long. I intend to make sure that never happens again. Now stay right where you are and let me ask somebody to bring us something to eat.”

Gently, Ben pulled her hand away. “You don’t need to go far. There’s a guard right outside the door.”

Rey scowled at the very notion and sprang off the bed, smoothing her over-large pajamas over her strong but thin form. Maybe _he_ ought to be the one making sure she ate, too. He knew she’d heard the thought when she tipped her head to one side with a mischievous smirk.

“ _I_ eat like a bantha,” she said. “Ask Finn. He says I’ll eat the Resistance out of house and home one day.”

Ben just smiled, enjoying the mental image of Rey out-eating a squad of brawny pilots. She saw it, too, and giggled.

Everything about this was just too wonderful…too dream-like…too impossible. He couldn’t possibly be here in his mother’s stronghold, defying the Dark and waking up with Rey like he hadn’t just been the First Order’s feared Supreme Leader the day before yesterday. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of it…

_“The Grace of the Light, it is.”_

Ben swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and gingerly got to his feet. Rey watched him, her eyes wide and clear and questioning as he hobbled closer.

“Come here,” he whispered. “Please…just for a minute before you go.”

“You said yourself I don’t have to go far,” she protested. “I’ll be right b—”

But before she could finish he wound his arms around her and pressed her head to his chest. Rey melted into the embrace: with a happy sigh she slipped her own arms around him and closed her eyes. Ben buried his lips in her hair, rocking her gently as he channeled all his feelings for her and for this moment into the Bond.

 _“I love you, Rey. I love_ this _. It’s what I always wanted. Even when I offered you my hand the first time, I wanted this.”_

She lifted her head. Ben held his breath, afraid she might not appreciate the reference to _that_ conversation. But Rey only smiled, her face flushed with joy and something else he dared not name for fear he might lose himself in it completely.

 _“I know,”_ she whispered back to his mind. “ _And now I’m going to fight for_ it _, too.”_

* * *

When Rey flung open the medbay door, the guard standing watch nearly jumped out of his skin. She waited until he’d composed himself before offering him a friendly smile.

“Would you mind fetching a medic?” she asked. “We need some breakfast, but someone needs to stay with the prisoner.”

“Y-yes, of course,” the man stammered. “I’ll find somebody straightaway, Master Skywalker.”

This time, it was Rey who blinked in surprise. “ _Master Skywalker?”_ _Did Poe tell the entire Base?_ She shut the door as soon as the guard scuttled away and found Ben watching her on his way to the medbay’s tiny ‘fresher.

“ ‘Master Skywalker?’ “ he repeated, one eyebrow quirked.

She flushed, pressed her back against the door. “Are you angry?”

“Why should I be?” 

“Well…because…” Rey wrinkled her nose and reverted to the ease of the Bond. “ _It’s just that you were angry with Luke for so long. I don’t expect you to recover from that overnight.”_

But Ben only shook his head. “I’m not angry. If anybody could carry on the Skywalker legacy, it would be you.” He winced as he made the step into the ‘fresher, his ribs still giving him some grief. “Just don’t get attached to it. You might want to change it one day.”

Rey frowned, puzzled, but he only smiled and shut the door behind him.

The medic who came with breakfast got quite a shock when she saw Rey’s unscathed face. When Rey assured her that Ben wouldn’t need anymore medical attention, either, the woman looked as if she thought the young Jedi had lost her mind. But then Ben emerged, clean and clad in a simple outfit he’d found in the ‘fresher, and the woman could barely string coherent words together. It was all Rey could do to keep a straight face.

“I can’t decide if she was frightened,” Ben muttered as soon as the medic left, “or just surprised.”

“A bit of both, I imagine,” Rey giggled. “I see you’re breaking out the spring colors.”

Ben looked down at the dark-blue shirt and grey trousers. “It’s the only thing I could find that fit. And these _barely_ work.”

“Well, I like it. It’s nice to see you in something other than black.” Rey eagerly gestured at the tray of food on the room’s small table. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m _starving_.”

Ben approached cautiously; she couldn’t tell if he was skeptical of the food, unsure how they’d divide it, or if he simply wasn’t hungry. As soon as his dark eyes lit up, she knew it wasn’t the third possibility—and she’d divided it equally in less than ten seconds. It was the _quality_ of the food, then. She had to remind herself that he was probably used to finer fare aboard First Order Dreadnoughts.

He didn’t complain, though—and the longer they stood over the tray, the faster he reached for the next bite. Neither of them had eaten in well over twenty-four hours. Before long Rey’s sense of humor bubbled to the surface: she mischievously reached for _his_ portion.

“Hey, hey,” he protested, swatting her hand away. “Eat your own, Scavenger.”

Rey giggled, and to her everlasting delight he grinned back. There was no trace of Kylo Ren in that smile: no anger, no resentment, and—for the moment, at least—not even a _hint_ of inner torment. She wasn’t even in the presence of Ben Solo as he had been in those tense, painful years as Luke’s apprentice. The young man beside her now was free for the first time in his life. More than that, he was _happy_.

_But will the rest of the world let him stay this way? We’re safe here, at the moment…but what if everyone else is like that poor man who nearly killed him last night? What if no one else is willing to accept the possibility that Kylo Ren is dead?_

_What if I lose him just when I need him the most?_

As she stole another glance at him he met her gaze, swallowing his last morsel. With a tenderness that made her face warm, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

No, she couldn’t lose him now. She _needed_ those generals and the leaders of the Resistance to see what the power of love and hope could do to even someone as lost, broken, and hated as Kylo Ren. She _needed_ them to balance justice with mercy, to imagine what wonderful things he could do now that he was on their side.

And she _needed_ them to let her keep him, because having him by her side was the only way she’d ever become who she was truly meant to be.

Besides…it had just dawned on her what he’d meant about changing her name one day. 

* * *

The summons came all too soon in the form of a stern note signed by Commander D’Acy: Master Rey Skywalker ( _there’s that name again_ , Ben thought with an odd, incredulous pride) was to bring “the prisoner” before Resistance Command in half an hour. An armed escort would lead them from the medbay to Command Center to “avoid a repeat of last night’s unnecessary conflict.”

“Well, I appreciate that,” Ben deadpanned, handing the summons back to Rey. “I’d rather avoid a repeat, too.”

She took the note, slowly turning it over in her fingers. “Why _didn’t_ you fight back?”

He sighed, methodically tidying the sheets on the med-bed. “If I had, I might’ve killed that man.”

“But he was head and shoulders taller than you. He could’ve smashed your head in—”

“And I could’ve broken his neck with one snap of my fingers.” Ben straightened, suppressing a shudder. “I thought about it, Rey. I even heard myself—my _old_ self—telling me to do it. But if I’d lifted a finger—if I’d hurt _anyone_ —they’ll only ever see Kylo Ren.”

“No, Ben,” Rey murmured, coming closer. “That’s not true. Or at least…it won’t be forever…”

“Do you know how hard it is to turn the other cheek when I’ve spent my entire life hiding or fighting, Rey? Do you?”

She said nothing, startled by the frustration in his voice. Ben groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. These mood swings were getting disorienting: one second he was ridiculously happy, the next he was haunted by the filth of his past. And behind it all loomed the old, familiar fear that he’d never be accepted, that he was a monster, that he could never be forgiven, that he could never be loved…

He felt her hand on his forearm and shivered. Slowly, tenderly, Rey turned his whole body in her direction—and he let her, because he’d let Rey do anything to him. She would never hurt him.

“I once called Kylo Ren a monster,” she said, wrapping her arms around his middle. “And he agreed with me. Do you remember that?”

Ben frowned and nodded. _Focus…focus on her voice…_

 _“_ Kylo Ren _was_ a monster,” she went on, rubbing his back and the spot in his side where a dull, throbbing ache still lingered. “But Ben Solo _isn’t._ Prove that to them. Tell them what the Jedi told you. Let them know you truly want to help us—and just be who you are!”

“But who _am_ I? That’s the question, Rey. That’s the question they’ll ask us both.”

“And _I_ know the answer,” she whispered. “You’re our last hope…and the other half of my soul. I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life.”

He stared at her, a little overwhelmed. He’d needed to hear her say it—yet it had reminded him, too, of what his uncle had promised him in that dark, ethereal place after Exegol. So long as he believed in who he truly was—so long as he remembered he was Ben Solo, Last of the Skywalkers, the man who’d returned to the Light—he’d have everything he needed.

 _But I have everything I need right here beside me, too_ , he thought as he reached up, cradling her face in his hands. He heard her breath catch, saw the way her hazel eyes widened and shone. As he leaned his forehead against hers and she closed her eyes, the rhythm of their breathing fell into sync.Their Bond thrummed like a melody as he kissed her for the first time since they were aboard the _Falcon_ …

Until a firm knock on the door startled them. Rey jerked away, blushing a deep crimson. Ben kept his eyes on her, unwilling to let that knock strike fear in him.

“Rey? Rey, it’s me! Poe said I could come and bring you two down to Command Center myself.”

“It’s Finn,” Rey whispered. “Time to go.”

Ben nodded, reluctantly lowering his hands from her face. Rey smoothed her hair, straightened her tunic. The knocking started again.

“Rey? Everything all right in there?”

“Just fine, Finn—we’re coming!” Rey called. She clipped the lightsabers to her belt and checked herself in the mirror one last time. She was still flushed and radiant, but there was a determined glint in her eyes as she reached out and laced her rough, slender fingers with Ben’s larger and far smoother ones. 

“We go together,” she whispered. “Always.”

He squeezed her hand. “Always.”


	9. Confrontation

_Don't close your eyes_

_I'm right beside you_

_Don't be afraid I'm never far_

_You and I were always meant to_

_Wake the dreamers from the dark_

_Come out, come out wherever you are!_

_—Nichole Nordeman, “I Will Believe”_

The Resistance generals and commanders had once again gathered in the Command Center, but today there were a few noteworthy additions: the leaders of the unexpected reinforcements who’d arrived at Exegol just in the nick of time. Unlike yesterday’s confused cacophany, however, the soldiers and dignitaries talked quietly amongst themselves. Rey had a feeling she knew the topic of conversation as soon as she, Ben, and Finn walked in and a dead silence fell.

Commander D’Acy’s eyes widened at the sight of the trio; she glared a furious question at Poe, who coolly refused to look back. Rey’s anxiety mounted, but Finn shot her a steady, reassuring look.

“We’ve got a power vacuum right now,” he’d explained as he led Rey and Ben out of the medbay—after, of course, demanding to know why they no longer looked like they’d been stomped on by a couple of AT-ATs. “Now that Leia’s gone, there isn’t one clear figurehead of the Resistance. Poe’s the best candidate, of course, but D’Acy’s got seniority and comes from ‘noble stock.’ Apparently that’s supposed to make a difference.”

“What do the rest of the people think?” Rey had asked. “Surely _they_ are the ones who get to decide?”

Finn had flashed a grin over his shoulder. “Oh, I think everyone would rather take orders from Poe. And no one would mind taking orders from you, either. Just sayin’.”

Rey had frowned, uncertain what exactly he meant by that. If the Resistance thought she’d start throwing her weight around, they were insane. True Jedi, Leia had often reminded her with a wry, self-deprecating look, did not meddle in politics. They advised, encouraged, and warned, but they never held command in that arena.

There were a few, very specific aspects of the Jedi Order Rey wanted to change, but _that_ wasn’t one of them.

Entering the Command Center, she immediately felt the tension, thick as mud. All eyes locked on her, then on Ben, then on their clasped hands. Lando, at least, offered her a steadying wink, and Maz Kanata smiled—but everyone else maintained guarded expressions. Ben tightened his grip on her hand; Rey squeezed his right back.

“General,” Finn said, locking eyes with Poe. “Master Rey…and the prisoner.”

Poe nodded crisply, though Rey detected a pleased glint in his eyes. “Thanks, General. Knew I could depend on you.”

“I had an armed escort ready and waiting to bring the prisoner here, Dameron,” D’Acy snapped. “You went over my head—”

“No, _Commander_ , I decided it’d be in everybody’s best interests to keep this as quiet and discreet as possible,” Poe interrupted. “And armed escorts are never discreet.”

To Rey’s relief, D’Acy didn’t argue—though she did close her mouth so fast, her teeth clicked. Poe motioned for Rey to come closer to the gathered leaders. She obeyed, bringing Ben with her until they stood alone in the center of the room. The young Queen of Crestir spoke first, her deep eyes fixed on Ben.

“Before we begin, I have a question,” she said, her cultured voice low. “How do you wish to be addressed by the Resistance, moving forward?”

Rey felt Ben’s thumb move rapidly along the top of her hand, his only outward indication of nerves.

“My name is Ben Solo,” he said quietly. “I don’t claim any other name. Or title.”

Lando folded his arms with a satisfied, “I-told-you-so” look that he swept across the room. The Queen’s regal, composed features relaxed. She glanced at Poe, who took his cue and stepped forward, hands on his hips.

“Rey tells us you’re willing to give us any and all information you have about the First Order,” he said, clear and authoritative. “I certainly hope for your sake that she’s right. But even if she is—even if you prove the most thorough gold mine of First Order secrets we’ve had since Hux started feeding us info behind your back—you should know that it won’t guarantee any particular outcome when we put you on trial. You still have plenty to answer for, and some of us need a lot more convincing that this isn’t some ploy to destroy us from within.”

Ben nodded, his thumb stilling over Rey’s hand. “I understand. And I’m still willing to tell you everything. You simply have to ask.”

Poe rocked on his heels, chewed the corner of his mouth, and glanced at Rey. She held his gaze, remembering everything they’d said to each other in the medbay last night. He wasn’t the one who needed convincing, she realized. Poe trusted _her_ , if not Ben Solo. It was the others—the ones who didn’t know her as well—who would need more evidence. 

“Master Rey,” Queen Erienn said quietly. “Will you step away from the prisoner, please?”

Rey’s stomach sank, but before she could work up the strength to release his hand, Ben let hers go. Surprised, she looked up; he met her gaze with a gentle smile, allowing himself one final, lingering brush of his finger against the side of her hand.

 _“Don’t be afraid,”_ he whispered into her mind. _“I won’t get cocky with them, I promise.”_

 _“You’d better not, Solo,”_ she shot back, fighting back a smile as she took a few steps back. If anyone noticed the intensity of their eye contact, no one said a word—though Commander Siren did clear his throat a little too loudly.

“What can you tell us about the First Order’s current position?” he asked. “We know part of the fleet went to Exegol with General Pryde. Where is the rest of it?”

Ben turned to him, a new, resolute precision crossing his dramatic features. “After a defeat like the one they suffered on Exegol, it should take a while for them to regroup. But if Pryde and Hux are dead, that leaves General Ava Cratt in command of the First Order’s armed forces. She commands the _Dauntless—_ a First Class Dreadnought. They and the 102nd Legion have been stationed on and above Coruscant for the past eight months.”

“Coruscant?” Poe repeated, surprised. “I wouldn’t think they’d need much monitoring there. That used to be the capital of the Empire—and they’ve still got plenty of Sith sympathizers—”

“Nevertheless,” Ben said firmly, “the First Order hasn’t shown Coruscant much favor. Snoke showed more interest in industry-heavy planets. The people of Coruscant haven’t taken kindly to the slight.”

“But they’re not exactly sympathetic to the Resistance, either?” D’Acy prodded.

Ben shrugged. “The politicians might not be. But there _are_ pockets of Resistance support on Coruscant. I put down a few riots there last year.”

D’Acy’s eyes narrowed. Ben met her gaze without flinching.

“Okay,” Poe said slowly. “What else can you give us?”

Ben squared his shoulders, and for the next half hour Rey watched and listened with mounting pride—and relief—as he unloaded everything he knew. When his memory seemed exhausted someone would simply ask another question, and he’d immediately have the answer. The conversation grew brisk, exciting, yet increasingly relaxed. When Finn pulled up a holo-map and began punching in the information Ben had given them, awed gasps rippled through the room. The First Order’s military positions, political allies, industrial strongholds, and pressure points rapidly lit up various locations throughout the splintered Republic’s territories.

Armed with this knowledge, the Resistance could finally hit the First Order right where it hurt.

 _“_ This is amazing!” Poe cried. “Even Hux never gave us _this_ much information.”

Outwardly, Ben remained solemn, but Rey perceived a surge of smug satisfaction through the Bond: “G _lad to know I’m still better than him at literally everything.”_ Aloud, however, he called out a string of numbers: “5-9-10-R-3H-145.”

“What are those?” Lando asked.

For the first time since they left the medbay, Ben allowed himself a smirk. “My access codes.”

Poe and D’Acy stared at each other; before either of them could move, Lieutenant Connix raced to the nearest computer. No one said a word as she punched in the numbers, needing Ben to repeat them for her only once. Rey’s heart pounded. If they could just infiltrate the First Order’s computer systems…

But a blaring ERROR message appeared on the screen. Ben frowned. Connix straightened, shaking her head.

“Maybe I mistyped,” she said. “Let me try again…”

“May I try?” Ben asked.

Connix looked at Poe; to D’Acy’s obvious horror he nodded, waving a dismissive hand. Connix stepped aside without hesitation, allowing Ben to lean over the computer. His long, strong fingers flew over the keyboard, and Rey knew he could’ve punched in that code with his eyes closed. 

But this time, the problem was painfully, horrifically obvious.

_“ERROR. Invalid Code. This user has been locked out of the First Order Communications System.”_

The room erupted in startled whispers. Poe swore. Ben jerked away from the computer, and Rey watched in dismay as the horrified realization slipped into his face.

“They know,” he said softly. He turned, looking straight at her. “They _know_.”

“What?” she demanded. “What do they know?” 

“That I’m alive. And that I’ve turned.”

“But how would they know?!” Poe cried. “We’ve got the whole kriffing base on lockdown. No news gets off this planet until we’ve finished this meeting!”

Ben and Rey stared at each other; instantly, she knew every twist and turn of his frantic deductions. Kylo Ren had made a concerted effort to cover his intentions after Kijimi; he hadn’t wanted his subordinates to know how desperately he’d wanted to bring the Last Jedi back alive, safe, and on his side. His TIE Whisper would’ve been traced to Exegol, of course, but the First Order would’ve expected that. And yes, the Knights of Ren lay dead on the planet—but again, they should’ve suspected _her_.

_“Who would know the truth, Rey? Against all the evidence, who would suspect—?”_

Before he could finish the thought, the doors flew open. Several Resistance soldiers burst in, panic draining all the color from their faces.

“General Dameron! First Order ships are entering orbit! They’re bearing down on the moon!”

The room erupted. D’Acy and Poe sprang to their feet and started bellowing orders. The newcomers who’d arrived yesterday barely listened to them, scrambling to contact their own ships and crews. Rey and Chewie locked eyes across the room.

“The _Falcon!_ ” she shouted over the noise. He nodded and fled the room in three long strides. Rey ran to Ben, who wore the most conflicted expression she’d seen all morning—but before she could reach him, Poe grabbed her arm. She froze, meeting his gaze.

“Whatever you do,” he said, measuring each word, “don’t let him out of your sight.”

“He won’t try to leave,” she snapped. _He’d never leave me._

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Poe replied sternly. “That’s not what I’m worried about _at all_.”

Rey suddenly understood. Poe wasn’t concerned about Ben seizing the opportunity to escape; he was afraidthe First Order might capture him. _And what would they do to him, if they know he’s on our side now?_ The thought made her skin crawl, but she managed a quick nod. Poe gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, then ran out of the room.

* * *

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Ben said as he, Rey, and Chewie clambered aboard the _Falcon_.

“You shouldn’t,” Rey retorted, shutting the hatch behind them. “You know this ship like the back of your hand, and you can have your pick of a station—”

Ben grabbed her hand, desperately needing her full attention. “That’s not what I mean, Rey. The First Order has been looking for this base for _months_. Even I was shocked when we got here yesterday and I realized the Resistance has been hiding on Ajan Kloss all this time. How did they find us—and how do they already know I’ve betrayed them? It makes no sense!”

“And it doesn’t matter right now, either,” Rey said firmly. “We have a job to do. Now where do you want to fight?”

Ben thought fast. “Gunner station.”

“No, you don’t,” Rey said, smirking. “Get in the cockpit, Solo.”

Ben blinked, realized what she’d done, and let out an incredulous huff. “Manipulation of a Force-connection. I call that ‘cheating.’ ”

Rey just raised her eyebrows and made no effort to hide her smug delight. Ben leaned down and kissed her once, hard and quick. She cupped his cheek in her palm and pressed her forehead against his as he broke the kiss.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “And don’t break my ship.”

He allowed himself one soft laugh—and then they tore away from each other, running in opposite directions.

Nothing could’ve prepared him, however, for the _Falcon_ ’s cockpit. He’d been in here yesterday, of course—but only as an observer, and only briefly. Now Chewie was making frantic, final preparations for takeoff. He glanced at Ben, hesitated a moment…and stood.

 **“Here** , **”** he growled, gesturing at the pilot’s seat. **“Defend your mother’s people.”**

Ben stared at him, dumbstruck—then threw himself into his father’s old seat and seized the controls. He’d flown the _Falcon_ once as a gangly 16-year-old padawan. Dad had made an unexpected visit to Uncle Luke’s Academy, obstensibly for a short visit and a delivery of new art supplies from Mom. Ben knew now that he’d been deeply concerned about his son’s state of mind. But Dad hadn’t let on about that then, and over Uncle Luke’s anxious objections he’d taken Ben “out for a spin” in his beloved rust-bucket. It had been glorious—an honor—and breathtaking fun.

Ben’s own natural talent for flying, however, took over now, regardless of the fact that he hadn’t operated this ship in fourteen years. With Chewie as co-pilot he steered the _Falcon_ off the ground and into formation with the swarm of other Resistance ships. He slipped on a communication headset so he could communicate with them, but with Rey he simply reached out, projecting reassurance and confidence as well as his solidifying strategy for the oncoming skirmish.

He instantly received her fierce determination and encouragement in return.

“All right, Uncle Chewie,” he muttered, curling his fingers around a lever his father’s hand rubbed smooth long ago. “Let’s teach the First Order a lesson they won’t forget.” 

* * *

The last time Rey had manned the gunner station she was trying to divert Kylo Ren’s attention away from the Resistance fighters holed up in the salt mines of Crait. The irony wasn’t lost on her; she knew from Ben’s wry presence in her mind that he was thinking the same thing. She wore a headpiece, setting it to the right channel so she could hear from Poe and the rest of her friends—but with Ben, she simply _thought_.

 _This is gonna get more and more convenient over time, isn’t it?_ she wondered a little gleefully.

But there was no time to dwell on the finer points of being one half of a Force-Dyad: they were entering Ajan Kloss’ atmosphere, and then, quite suddenly, they were in orbit. One massive First Order destroyer, along with its escorting cruisers and TIE fighters, already waited for them.

“All right, guys, this is it!” Poe shouted over the comms. “Bombers, target that destroyer! The rest of you—not a single TIE gets through the atmosphere! Got it?”

“Not a single TIE,” Ben replied, his voice—his actual, physical voice—in Rey’s ear. “Got it.”

She smiled; hearing that deep voice over the channel must’ve given the rest of the Resistance fighters a shock. She wrapped her hands around her control columns and blew out a long, bracing sigh.

The battle erupted in seconds. The _Millennium Falcon_ remained the indisputed attack dog of the Resistance: dozens of rebel ships streaked in her wake to confront a cluster of firing TIEs. Ben swerved to avoid a barrage of plasma; Rey opened fire and hit her marks.

“WHOO!” she squealed. “ _Am I good, or am I good?”_

The Bond quaked with Ben’s laughter. _“You’re good, Sweetheart.”_

She grinned and took aim again. One day, if it was the last thing she did, she’d _make_ him laugh out loud like that.

The destroyer tried desperately to penetrate the atmosphere, but too many of the larger, newcomer Resistance ships pummeled it with explosive payloads. Rey saw it happening out of the corner of her eye, but couldn’t give it more attention than that: Ben was taking the _Falcon_ through her paces, cutting corners and dropping and rising just as fast and as capably as she, Poe, or even Han Solo had ever done. When one of the rebel cruisers found itself until a full-blown attack, the _Falcon_ swooped behind its assailants, distracting the TIE pilots and drawing their fire. Rey zeroed all her focus on them, smashing them into sparking oblivion.

“Heads up, First Order!” Poe shouted, his voice thundering through the Resistance channel. “You’ll never get through the atmosphere of this moon. Surrender now and we’ll let you live. Keep fighting, and we won’t let up till we’ve rammed you and your ships into the ocean down there.”

Rey’s seat swerved down and to the side as she obliterated another TIE—but before she could make out any response from the destroyer, reality shifted. Similar to the Bond kicking in, the clatter and hum of the _Falcon_ faded into the background and even Chewie’s triumphant roars melted away. But Ben’s presence weakened, too…not like it had on Exegol when he died in her arms, but more as if something—or someone—had isolated _her_ from him. 

Rey tensed, her attention no longer on the battle. She spun in her seat, her gaze darting across the cramped area, her heart pounding. She couldn’t see anyone, but somebody was definitely here. And either they were manipulating her connection with Ben, using it to reach _her—_ or they were simply blocking it so she couldn’t reach _him._

 _Get to the cockpit, Rey_ , she told herself, unbuckling herself as casually as she could. _Don’t panic. Just get to Ben. Whatever it is, you’ll be stronger if you’re with him. Just get to—_

But before she could step out of the gunner station, a voice swooped into her head with such overwhelming intensity, she reeled backwards with a cry.

 ** _“Where do you think you’re going, Mareya Palpatine?”_**

* * *

“This is where the fun begins,” Ben muttered, jerking the _Falcon’_ s controls to the side so fast that even Chewie shot him a look of muted alarm. Ben ignored him, steering the ship straight through the perilously narrow space between the destroyer and one of the rebel cruisers currently being drawn in by the destroyer’s tractor beam.

The TIEs pursuing the _Falcon_ couldn’t maintain their speed or their course in such disorienting close quarters and banged unceremoniously against the destroyer’s sides. The combined blasts broke the tractor beam and shoved the rebel cruiser away. Ben glanced through the side window; the cruiser was barely damaged.

He noticed something else, though, as he peered at the destroyer.

“That’s the _Dauntless_ ,” he said, more to himself than to Chewie. “That’s Cratt’s ship.”

Chewie snorted. **“Pay attention, Cub. The First Order hates this ship, in case you’d forgotten—and they’re still coming after us.”**

Ben took the point: he quickly leaned back in his seat and swerved the _Falcon_ around. “ _Here we go again, Rey. Give ‘em all you’ve got_.”

He received no response. He blinked, lifted his head, probed the Bond, and suddenly realized that it had gone quiet and cold. For a moment he sat there, numb with bewilderment. When he sprang to his feet and ripped off the headseat, Chewie jerked his head up in alarm.

**“Wait, where are you—?!”**

“Take over!” Ben shouted, already halfway out the cockpit. “Rey!”

No reply. His heart pounded in sheer terror. He hadn’t felt the Bond snap—not like he had on Exegol when she fell in a dead and crumpled heap in front of the dark throne. But the fact that it could’ve gone so silent without him noticing, even in the heat of battle, made him want to smash something. Preferably his own head.

“Rey!” he shouted again. “REY!”

He crashed into the gunner station and froze. Rey stood rigidly in front of her seat, her hand clenched against its back so tightly, her knuckles had gone white. Her hazel eyes stared, wide and terrified, at the wall on his right. Ben stepped cautiously down into the station, following her gaze and keenly aware, as soon as he did so, of a palpable Darkness.

“Rey,” he murmured, reaching out a hand. “Sweetheart, look at me—”

But as soon as he touched her bare arm, the _Falcon_ fell away. It was like he’d touched a live wire. Ben jumped, gasped, and opened his eyes in a dark, cold space. The only light came from Rey, who stood ramrod-straight before a tall, graceful figure shrouded in black. The sight of its gloved hand reaching out to her face conjured up one of Ben’s most hateful memories: the one from Starkiller Base where he’d tried sifting through her mind.

But Rey was still a fighter. Here, at least, the Bond had snapped back to its vibrant strength, and through it he sensed her fury as well as her fear. With a grunting effort, she reached out her own hand. Her assailant’s fingers trembled.

“Who are you?” she whispered, breathless. “Tell me.”

The stranger lowered his hooded head, concentrating. “I am Darth Chrallous…Emperor of the Universe.”

Rey’s jaw clenched. “There’s only one person who’s ever claimed that title…and he’s dead. I killed him.”

“I know you did.” The stranger lifted his head and tilted it to one side. “I saw you. You and the grandson of Darth Vader, standing alone before the throne. A Force Dyad. The stuff of fairytales.”

Ben bristled at the contempt in the Sith Lord’s voice, but he didn’t dare take a step forward, not yet. Breaking Rey’s concentration might prove fatal, though he did sense from the Bond that she knew he was close by.

“The Light has no power here,”the stranger murmured, his voice low and disturbingly pleasant voice. “Only the Darkness within us both has any effect within this plane. Use _that_ to fight me, if you will. Unleash your full potential. Don’t be afraid of who you are, Mareya Palpatine.”

“I…” Rey snarled, “am not…a Palpatine!”

“Of course you are. And so am I. It’s in our blood. Just like _he_ —” The stranger suddenly aimed his other hand at Ben. “—has that _mighty_ Skywalker blood running through _his_ veins.”

Ben knew as soon as he saw that open palm stretched out towards him what was about to happen: the violent tightening around his throat didn’t even surprise him. But for the first time Rey’s gaze snapped towards him, her beautiful eyes widening in horror as she flung out her own hand.

“NO!” she screamed. “Ben!”

“Two choices, Mareya,” Chrallous murmured. “Two simple choices. Wield the Darkness and save the Last of the Skywalkers, or let him die. Either way, you lose him to the Dark. Accept the inevitable, Empress Palpatine.”

Rey’s eyes welled with tears, the Bond shuddering with her terror. Ben gasped, the invisible fingers clenching until his vision blurred, but he refused to lift his own hands to his throat. He just closed his eyes, let his head fall back, and focused… _focus…FOCUS…_

He remembered his refusal to act last night in his prison cell. He remembered how hard it had been to let that rebel—a man whose life he’d ruined—beat him to a bloody pulp. It had been the first and only way to prove to the Resistance that Kylo Ren was dead, however, and so he’d done it willingly.

But this was different. This was _very_ different. Whoever this Darth Chrallous was, he was going after Rey.

And Ben Solo had proven on Exegol that _no one_ would go after Rey without him putting up a fight.

 _Be with me_ , he pleaded, choosing to believe this monster was wrong, that the Light still had power here. The Light _always_ had power. His own life was proof of that. _Be with me. Be with US._

Instantly, peace and strength enveloped him. Ben brought his head forward and opened his eyes; locking his gaze on the hooded figure, he mentally tore the invisible hand away from his throat and stretched out his own arm. Under the weight of his assault, Chrallous staggered. Hope flickered and grew in Rey’s tear-streaked face. She reached out to Ben, and this time he seized her hand without ever lowering his other arm. 

The Bond flared. Where before only she radiated any light in this dark plane, now he felt its warmth course through him, too. The ground shook beneath their feet. Rey lifted her hand; with a startled shout, Chrallous actually stumbled and fell back.

“Take this message back to the First Order and any Sith who remain,” Rey said, her voice clear and strong as a queen’s. “Kylo Ren is dead, but Ben Solo is alive. The Republic will rise faster than you and your allies could ever imagine. And I am _not_ Empress Palpatine. I am Rey Skywalker. I am one half of a Force Dyad, and I am _all_ of the Jedi.”

Chrallous tried to stand, but Ben and Rey thrust their palms forward in unison. He flung back with a furious cry, his hood tumbling off his head and revealing a rather normal, handsome, angular face—glittering yellow eyes excepted. Ben released Rey’s hand and raised both his own.

“Get…off…our… _ship_ ,” he growled. He brought both hands down in a fearsome, sweeping motion—and with one last wordless scream of anger and protest, Chrallous vanished.

So did the terrible Darkness. The _Falcon_ materialized around them so fast, Ben lurched and staggered against the wall. Rey clung to him like her life depended on it, gulping air.

“It’s all right,” he gasped, sliding to an awkward seat on the floor. “It’s all right…I’ve got you, Sweetheart…”

“You did it,” she whispered. “I thought he was going to kill you, but you…you broke his power.”

She lifted her head and he suddenly realized, contrary to what he’d suspected, that she wasn’t crying at all. She was flushed and she still hadn’t quite caught her breath, but there was nothing in her eyes except pride and adoration. Before he could speak she crashed her lips into his, kissing him with abandon, running her hands through his hair and all over his face. When she finally pulled back, he blinked at her and laughed breathlessly.

“I was going to offer you all the credit, but if that’s the kind of thanks I get, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Rey laughed and sprang to her feet. As he followed her, they peered out the window together. The Resistance had driven back the First Order attackers; the destroyer had even pulled back from the atmosphere, battered from the fierce assault its commanding officer probably hadn’t expected. Rey stared at the retreating ship.

“He’s on that destroyer,” she murmured. “I can sense it.”

Ben wrapped an arm around her. “He must’ve been one of the Acolytes on Exegol. How any of them survived—”

Rey shook her head. “No, I think he’s the last one. That’s why he wanted me to join him. He can’t rebuild the Empire on his own. He’s powerful, but not _that_ powerful.” She looked up at him, eyes wide. “He said he was a Palpatine. And did you hear what he called me? ‘Mareya.’ That must be the name my parents gave me, Ben. I’ve always wondered…”

He kissed her forehead. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll always be ‘Rey’ to me.”

She leaned into him, weary. “I’m so, so glad you came.”

“So am I.” He held her close, relishing the weight of her against him for one precious moment before giving her hair a gentle little tug. “Come on. Let’s go back to the cockpit before Chewie accuses us of going AWOL.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting pretty close to the end of this story! No more than three chapters left (possibly two, depending on how the upcoming trial unfolds...). Updates may or may not come a bit further apart at this point, though, as I balance between this story, an original novel, a blog, freelance writing, and still more Rey/Ben stories. Whew. I have a lot on my plate.
> 
> (But hey, COVID-19 Social Distancing will at least give me a little extra time.)


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